{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_46478/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_46478","id":"gutenberg_46478","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/46478","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Christianity","Incarnation"],"text":"Transcriber's note:\n\nNotes and quotations in smaller font have been indented two spaces.\n\nApparent typographical errors have been corrected; inconsistent hyphens\nhave been retained; essay headings have been simplified.\n\n\n\n\n Oxford\n HORACE HART, PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY\n\n\n\n\n LUX MUNDI\n\n _A SERIES OF STUDIES_\n IN THE\n RELIGION OF THE INCARNATION\n\n EDITED\n BY CHARLES GORE, M.A.\n\n PRINCIPAL OF PUSEY HOUSE\n FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, OXFORD\n\n _TENTH EDITION_\n\n  A quella Luce cotal si diventa,\n  Che volgersi da lei per altro aspetto\n  \u00c8 impossibil che mai si consenta.\n\n LONDON\n JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET\n 1890\n\n [_All rights reserved_]\n\n\n\n\n ESSAYS AND CONTRIBUTORS.\n\n\n1. _Faith._\n\n Rev. H. S.\u00a0HOLLAND, M.A., Canon of St. Paul's, sometime\n Senior Student of Christ Church.\n\n2. _The Christian Doctrine of God._\n\n Rev. AUBREY MOORE, M.A., Hon. Canon of Christ Church, Tutor\n of Magdalen and Keble Colleges.\n\n3. _The Problem of Pain: its bearing on faith in God._\n\n Rev. J. R. ILLINGWORTH, M.A., Rector of Longworth, sometime\n Fellow of Jesus and Tutor of Keble Colleges.\n\n4. _The Preparation in History for Christ._\n\n Rev. E. S.\u00a0TALBOT, D.D., Vicar of Leeds, sometime Warden of\n Keble College.\n\n5. _The Incarnation in relation to Development._\n\n Rev. J. R. ILLINGWORTH.\n\n6. _The Incarnation as the Basis of Dogma._\n\n Rev. R. C. MOBERLY, M.A., Vicar of Great Budworth, sometime\n Senior Student of Christ Church.\n\n7. _The Atonement._\n\n Rev. and Hon. ARTHUR LYTTELTON, M.A., Master of Selwyn\n College, Cambridge, sometime Tutor of Keble College.\n\n8. _The Holy Spirit and Inspiration._\n\n Rev. C. GORE, M.A., Principal of Pusey House, Fellow of\n Trinity College.\n\n9. _The Church._\n\n Rev. W. LOCK, M.A., Sub-Warden of Keble and Fellow of\n Magdalen Colleges.\n\n10. _Sacraments._\n\n Rev. F. PAGET, D.D., Canon of Christ Church, and Regius\n Professor of Pastoral Theology.\n\n11. _Christianity and Politics._\n\n Rev. W. J. H. CAMPION, M.A., Tutor of Keble College.\n\n12. _Christian Ethics._\n\n Rev. R. L. OTTLEY, M.A., Vice-Principal of Cuddesdon, late\n Senior Student of Christ Church.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\n1. This volume is primarily due to a set of circumstances which exists\nno longer. The writers found themselves at Oxford together between the\nyears 1875-1885, engaged in the common work of University education;\nand compelled for their own sake, no less than that of others, to\nattempt to put the Catholic faith into its right relation to modern\nintellectual and moral problems. Such common necessity and effort led\nto not infrequent meetings, in which a common body of thought and\nsentiment, and a common method of commending the faith to the\nacceptance of others, tended to form itself. We, who once enjoyed this\nhappy companionship, are now for the most part separated. But at least\nsome result of our temporary association remains, which it is hoped\nmay justify and explain the present volume.\n\n2. For this collection of essays represents an attempt on behalf of\nthe Christian Creed in the way of explanation. We are sure that Jesus\nChrist is still and will continue to be the 'Light of the world.' We\nare sure that if men can rid themselves of prejudices and mistakes\n(for which, it must be said, the Church is often as responsible as\nthey), and will look afresh at what the Christian faith really means,\nthey will find that it is as adequate as ever to interpret life and\nknowledge in its several departments, and to impart not less\nintellectual than moral freedom. But we are conscious also that if the\ntrue meaning of the faith is to be made sufficiently conspicuous it\nneeds disencumbering, reinterpreting, explaining. We can but quote in\nthis sense a distinguished French writer who has often acted as an\ninspiration to many of us. P\u00e8re Gratry felt painfully that the dogmas\nof the Church were but as an 'unknown tongue' to many of the best of\nhis compatriots. 'It is not enough,' he said, 'to utter the mysteries\nof the Spirit, the great mysteries of Christianity, in formulas, true\nbefore God, but not understood of the people. The apostle and the\nprophet are precisely those who have the gift of interpreting these\nobscure and profound formulas for each man and each age. To translate\ninto the common tongue the mysterious and sacred language ... to speak\nthe word of God afresh in each age, in accordance with both the\nnovelty of the age and the eternal antiquity of the truth, this is\nwhat S.\u00a0Paul means by interpreting the unknown tongue. But to do this,\nthe first condition is that a man should appreciate the times he lives\nin. \"Hoc autem tempus quare non probatis[1]?\"'\n\n3. We have written then in this volume not as 'guessers at truth,' but\nas servants of the Catholic Creed and Church, aiming only at\ninterpreting the faith we have received. On the other hand, we have\nwritten with the conviction that the epoch in which we live is one of\nprofound transformation, intellectual and social, abounding in new\nneeds, new points of view, new questions; and certain therefore to\ninvolve great changes in the outlying departments of theology, where\nit is linked on to other sciences, and to necessitate some general\nrestatement of its claim and meaning.\n\nThis is to say that theology must take a new development. We grudge\nthe name development, on the one hand, to anything which fails to\npreserve the type of the Christian Creed and the Christian Church; for\ndevelopment is not innovation, it is not heresy: on the other hand, we\ncannot recognise as the true 'development of Christian doctrine,' a\nmovement which means merely an intensification of a current tendency\nfrom within, a narrowing and hardening of theology by simply giving it\ngreater definiteness or multiplying its dogmas.\n\nThe real development of theology is rather the process in which the\nChurch, standing firm in her old truths, enters into the apprehension\nof the new social and intellectual movements of each age: and because\n'the truth makes her free' is able to assimilate all new material, to\nwelcome and give its place to all new knowledge, to throw herself into\nthe sanctification of each new social order, bringing forth out of her\ntreasures things new and old, and shewing again and again her power of\nwitnessing under changed conditions to the catholic capacity of her\nfaith and life.\n\n4. To such a development these studies attempt to be a contribution.\nThey will be seen to cover, more or less, the area of the Christian\nfaith in its natural order and sequence of parts, but the intention is\nnot to offer complete theological treatises, or controversial defences\nof religious truths: it is rather to present positively the central\nideas and principles of religion, in the light of contemporary thought\nand current problems. The only one of the essays in fact which has any\ndegree of formal completeness, is that on Christian Ethics, a subject\non which the absence of systematic books of a genuine English growth\nseems to justify a more detailed treatment.\n\n5. The main omissions of which we are conscious are due to want of\nspace. For instance, we should have been very glad to attempt a\nseparate treatment of the subject of sin; though we hope the line that\nwould be taken about it has been sufficiently indicated by more than\none writer[2]. Again, we have left aside any detailed discussion of\nhistorical evidences; but it will be seen that our attempt has been so\nto present the principles of the Christian faith as to suggest the\npoint of view from which evidences are intelligible, and from which\nthey will, it is firmly believed, be found satisfactory. Once more, if\nwe have not found room for a treatment of miracles, at least we hope\nthat the Church's conception of God, as He manifests Himself in nature\nand in grace, which we have endeavoured to express, will at once\nacquit us of any belief in capricious 'violations of law;' and will\nalso suggest a view of the world as disordered by sin and crying out\nfor redemption, which will make it intelligible that 'miracles' should\nappear, not as violating law, but as a necessary element in its\nrestoration as well as its completer exhibition; contrary, not to the\nfundamental order of the Divine working, but only to a superficial or\nmechanical view of it, or to a view which sin has distorted or\npreoccupation with physical science has unduly narrowed.\n\n6. It only remains to explain that we have written not as mere\nindividuals, but as ministers, under common conditions, of a common\nfaith. This unity of conviction has enabled us freely to offer and\naccept mutual criticism and suggestion; so that without each of us\nprofessing such responsibility for work other than his own, as would\nhave involved undue interference with individual method, we do desire\nthis volume to be the expression of a common mind and a common hope.\n\n C. G.\n\n PUSEY HOUSE,\n _Michaelmas, 1889_.\n\n[1] Gratry, _Henri Perreyve_, Paris 1880, p. 162.\n\n[2] See pp. 208-211, 292-3, 318-20, 475-6.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION.\n\n\nThe author of the Essay _The Holy Spirit and Inspiration_ has\nendeavoured to obviate further misunderstanding of his meaning on one\nimportant point by rewriting some sentences on pp. 359-60, in\naccordance with the _Corrigenda_ inserted in the Fourth Edition.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE TO THE TENTH EDITION.\n\n\nI.\n\nThere are two things which may fairly be regretted in regard to the\ncriticisms--often the very kind and encouraging criticisms--which,\nthis book has received. There is, first, the disproportionate\nattention which has been given to some twenty pages on the subject of\nthe inspiration of Holy Scripture, an attention so disproportionate as\nto defeat the object which the writers had in view in assigning to\nthat subject its place in the general treatment of the work of the\nHoly Spirit--the object, namely, of giving it its proper context in\nthe whole body of Christian truth: and there is, secondly, the fact\nthat we have not generally succeeded in gaining the attention of our\ncritics to the point of view from which these 'studies' were written,\nand the purpose they were intended to serve.\n\nOur purpose was 'to succour a distressed faith' by endeavouring to\nbring the Christian Creed into its right relation to the modern growth\nof knowledge, scientific, historical, critical; and to the modern\nproblems of politics and ethics[3]. We were writing as for Christians,\nbut as for Christians perplexed by new knowledge which they are\nrequired to assimilate and new problems with which they are required\nto deal. What is needed to help men in such perplexity is not\ncompromise, for compromise generally means tampering with principle,\nbut readjustment, or fresh correlation, of the things of faith and the\nthings of knowledge. In detail this will, no doubt, involve\nconcessions, and that on both sides, because both sides have been\nliable to make mistakes[4]; but in the main what is to be looked for\nis a reconciliation which shall at once set the scientific and\ncritical movement, so far as it is simply scientific and critical,\nfree from the peril of irreligion, and the religious movement free\nfrom the imputation of hostility to new knowledge--as free as any\nmovement can be, which is intensely concerned to nourish and develop\nwhat is permanent and unchanging in human life. Such a reconciliation\nhas more than once been effected in the past, though never without a\npreliminary period of antagonism[5]; our confidence that it will be\neffected anew in the future lies partly in the fact that we see it\nalready taking place in some minds which seem to us to represent the\nbest life and thought of our time both scientific and religious. One\nsuch at least[6] we knew and have lost, though only from present\nintercourse, in Aubrey Moore. Nobody could know him and think of him\nas 'compromising' either his faith or his science. He lived primarily\nand with deepest interest in his religious life and theological study,\nbut he lived also with intense reality in the life of science. And the\ndebt we owe to him, over and above the debt under which his personal\ncharacter lays us for ever, is that of having let us see how the two\nlives of faith and of science can melt into one. He felt indeed and\nwrestled with the difficulties of adjustment. He had not, as it seemed\nto us, nearly finished his work in this respect. But he had done\nenough for our encouragement: enough to help us to believe that the\nbest minds of the future are to be neither religious minds defying\nscientific advance, nor scientific minds denying religion, but minds\nin which religion interprets and is interpreted by science, in which\nfaith and enquiry subsist together and reinforce one another. The\nreason why he should have been so soon taken from us and from the\nChurch on earth--taken when 'our need was the sorest'--lies in the\nimpenetrable mysteries of God. 'Si dolemus ablatum, non tamen\nobliviscimur quod datus fuit, et gratias agimus quod habere illum\nmeruimus.... Pusillus corde eram et confortabat me; piger et\nnegligens, et excitabat me[7].'\n\n\nII.\n\nIt seems to us that a due regard to the point of view from which these\nstudies were written would have obviated some of the criticisms upon\nthem. For instance, it would have explained why we forbore to enter\nupon the questions which may be raised as to the seat and methods of\nChurch authority. It was because these questions do not arise\npractically till the work has been done to which we were attempting to\nminister. When a man is once reassured that his faith in Christ is\ncapable of rational justification, he begins naturally to enquire what\nexactly the Christian religion involves in this or that detail, and\nhow its manifestly authoritative character, as a Divine Revelation, is\nto find expression: but these enquiries hardly begin till the\npreliminary reassurance has been gained.\n\nThe _moral_ authority of Christianity, of Christian lives and\ncharacters, does indeed exercise a determining influence on the\npromotion and recovery of faith; but men do not often either win a\nhold on the creed for the first time, or recover it where it has been\nlost or impaired, because the theological authority of the Church\nenables them to take it on trust. The very grounds of that authority\nare for the moment too much in question to admit of the proper amount\nof deference being given to it. Thus it seemed to us better in this\nvolume to be content with general statements as to the principle of\nChurch authority[8], leaving out its detailed discussion as unsuitable\nto our present purpose.\n\nOf course, however, we were conscious all the time that we were\nourselves amenable to the bar of authority and were bound to feel sure\nthat nothing we were saying was transgressing the laws which the\nCatholic Church has laid down. We should indeed be unanimous in\ndisclaiming any desire to have 'license to say what we please' in our\nposition as Church teachers. All meaning would be taken out of the\neffort and hope this book represents if we could not believe that we\nwere speaking as the Church would have us speak. As the essay on\nInspiration has been chiefly called in question on the ground of\nauthority, the author of it must be allowed to plead that he did\nassure himself he was saying nothing which the Church in her past\naction had not left him free to say, while for the future he does\nearnestly desire in due course, and after due enquiry, an action of\nChurch authority on the relation of modern critical methods to the\ndoctrine of Inspiration; and further he believes that the Anglican\nchurches, holding as they do so conspicuous a place in traditional\nreverence for the Scriptures, while they are so free on the other hand\nfrom the obscurantist fear of historical enquiry, are more likely than\nany other part of the Church to arrive at determinations on the\nsubject such as will be of material service to the whole of\nChristendom. But for the present there can be no doubt the subject is\nnot ripe for any official or formal determinations.\n\n\nIII.\n\nIt seems to us also that some of the criticisms on the treatment of\nInspiration in Essay VIII, which shall be presently dealt with, have\nbeen due to the same forgetfulness of the writer's aim, and of the\ngeneral aim of the whole book. Our traditional belief in the Bible is\nat the present time confronted with a body of critical literature\nwhich claims to overthrow a great many of the accepted opinions about\nthe Old Testament Scriptures. The criticism is at least grave and\nimportant enough to claim attention, to necessitate that we should\ncome to a more or less clear understanding of the relation in which\nour faith stands towards it. The writer of the essay did not write as\na biblical critic but as a theological student and teacher, bound to\ngive a candid consideration to a criticism which bears directly upon\nthe sacred books of our religion. His object was not to discuss and\ndetermine questions of biblical criticism, but to explain, as it\nappears to him, the relation which theology is to take up towards\nthem. And he wrote 'in the mind of those who have felt the trouble in\nthe air:' he wrote to succour a faith distressed by the problems\ncriticism is raising. That faith is very widely distressed by them,\nand that not merely in academic circles, does not admit of question.\nNor did it seem to him to admit of question that the best way to deal\nwith this distress was not to attempt to solve problems, which,\nbecause of the immense area over which discussion ranges, do not admit\nof ready solutions; but to attempt to state the main conclusions\ncriticism is claiming to have arrived at, as the critics themselves\nwould have us state them; to show that our Christian faith is not\nvitally affected by them; and so to divert an anxious mind from\nproblems which it cannot solve, at least at present, and fix it on the\ncentral truths of our religion, helping it to feel how, if it be once\ngrounded on these central truths, the issue of the critical discussion\ncan be awaited, with keen interest indeed, but without alarm. But this\nassurance of mind in face of the critical controversy is only possible\nif we see that the critical positions are in fact compatible with the\nreal _inspiration_ of Holy Scripture. Now the best way to give\nreassurance on this point seemed to be for the writer to make it plain\nthat he himself felt the great force and appeal of the critical case,\nand that his conviction that the real Inspiration of the Old Testament\nwas unaffected by it, did not depend upon its being underrated. Had\nthe main purpose of the writer been to help to determine critical\npositions, he would have been bound to write both at greater length\nand also with more exactness and discrimination. But on the other\nhand, the purpose of reassurance would have had less chance of being\nsuccessfully accomplished--as in some cases we have reason to believe\nwith thankfulness that it has been accomplished or assisted--if the\nwriter had been more reluctant to accept, at least hypothetically,\nwhat are claimed as critical results. We all know by experience that\nfreedom and happiness in our attitude as Christians towards problems\nnot easily solved, or even easily brought to crucial tests, are most\nreadily secured if we can feel that our faith is, at the last resort,\nindependent of the exact solution arrived at. Thus our object was to\ngive to anxious enquirers, of whom there are surely an immense number\nmost deserving of any help which can be given them, a freedom in\nregard to Old Testament problems as wide as the Catholic faith seemed\nto warrant.\n\n\nIV.\n\nWe cannot but accept the very general suggestion of our critics that\nwe ought to have attempted a separate treatment of the problem of sin.\nSome such treatment is now offered in the second appendix, and offered\nin the form of a republication of what has previously seen the light,\nso that it may be plain that the absence of it from earlier editions\nwas not due to lack of conviction or unwillingness to deal with the\nsubject. The appendix is not in fact more than a drawing out of what\nis involved in some passages of the essays taken together[9]. Thus the\nfifth essay takes up a very clear position as to the practical aspect\nwhich sin bears in human life. The fact is emphasized that sin, as our\nmoral consciousness knows it and Christianity has successfully dealt\nwith it, is a phenomenon unique in the world:--it is what nothing else\nis, violation of law. Now this is the essence of the Christian\ndoctrine of sin, as S.\u00a0John states it: 'Sin is lawlessness[10].' Sin\nand lawlessness are coincident terms. This view of sin is primarily\n_practical_; it may be represented in fact as a postulate required for\nsuccessfully dealing with sin, a postulate justified and verified by\nits results. But because it is thus verified and justified, it passes\nlike any other hypothesis which explains facts, in proportion to the\nrange and thoroughness of the experience which tests it, out of the\nregion of mere working hypotheses into that of accepted truths. Thus\nit is to the Christian consciousness an accepted truth, that sin, all\ndown the long history of humanity, has been a violation of the divine\norder, a refusal of obedience, a corruption of man's true nature. Sin,\nas such, has always been a source of confusion, not of progress. We\ncan indeed recognise how the movement and development in humanity has\nfrequently[11] been in fact conditioned by sin; but we should still\ncontend that it has never been the sin in itself which has been the\nspring of force and progress, but the faculties of will and intellect\nwhich sin was using. Always the will and intellect would have worked\nbetter and more fruitfully in the result if they had been free from\nthe taint of selfishness and rebellion against God. Always sin, as\nsuch, has been a lowering and not a raising of human life: a fall and\nnot a rise. Thus sin at the beginning of human life must have been not\nmerely the awakening of moral consciousness, but the obscuring and\ntainting of it by lawlessness and disobedience. Sin, as all down its\nhistory, so in its origin, is a fall; a fall, moreover, entailing\nconsequences on those who come after, in virtue of the inviolable\nsolidarity of the human race. To this view of sin original and actual,\nChristianity appears to be bound; and it is a view that, as we have\nnow endeavoured to show[12], brings us into no conflict with\nscientific discovery. For science never attempts to prove that man\nmight not have developed otherwise than as in fact he has, or that the\nactual development has been the best possible: nor has Christianity\never in its best representatives, certainly not in its patristic\nrepresentatives, been identified with a denial that human history as a\nwhole has been a development upwards from below[13]. The Old Testament\nis in fact among ancient literatures, the literature of development,\nof progress[14].\n\n\nV.\n\nThe criticisms on our treatment of Inspiration have been so abundant,\nand have gone into such detail, that it will be obvious that any\nattempt to reply to them must be a more individual effort than the\nattempt to reply to the criticisms on the general aim and spirit of\nthe book. For while the writers in this volume are at one as to the\ngeneral attitude which they would wish the Church to assume towards\nthe critical treatment of the Old Testament, as they are at one in the\ngeneral line of treatment adopted throughout this volume, they cannot\npretend to be at one on all the details of a complicated subject. The\nwriter of the particular essay alone can be responsible for these: and\nwith reference to them he must be understood to speak simply in his\nown person.\n\n1. The passage about Inspiration was written under the conviction that\nrecent criticism of the Old Testament represents a real advance in\nanalytical method as applied to literature, and thus a most serious\nmovement of thought. As such it has been estimated by the Bishop of\nOxford in his recent Charge. He says, 'The Holy Scriptures of the Old\nTestament are now going through a process of analytical criticism\nwhich has, as we believe, had no parallel, for acuteness of\ninvestigation, carefulness of method, and completeness of apparatus,\nsince the days in which they began to be regarded as a code of\ninspired literature, and certainly not since the days of our blessed\nLord's life on earth; at which period we understand that to all\nintents and purposes the books which we receive, as the Canonical Old\nTestament Scriptures, had taken their existing form[15].' But like the\nscientific movement of our time, the critical movement has been\naccompanied by all the arbitrariness and tendency to push things to\nextremes which appears to be an almost inseparable attendant upon\nliving and vigorous movements, ecclesiastical and secular. Further\nthan this, its representatives have been--and here again the\nconditions of the scientific movement are reproduced--very frequently\nmen personally opposed to the Christian faith, and even thoroughly\nrationalistic in temper and tone. But it does not follow in the case\nof criticism, any more than in the case of science, that we are not to\nlearn a great deal from a movement characterized even predominantly by\n'extremeness' and unbelief. And in fact, in the past fifty years there\nappears to have been a solid critical advance, underneath a great deal\nof controversial arbitrariness and irreligious insolence. Now I\nthought that I should best serve the purpose with which I was writing,\nif I went as far as I could in ungrudging recognition of the claims of\ncriticism, and involved myself as little as possible in doubtful\ndiscussions; but I did also intend to express, and believed myself to\nhave expressed with sufficient clearness[16], my own conviction that\nit was with the more conservative among the recent critics, and not\nwith the more extreme, that the victory would lie. Thus when I said,\nin a sentence which has been specially criticized (partly because its\nwording was somewhat ambiguous), that criticism is reaching 'results\nas sure as scientific enquiry,' what I intended so to characterize was\nnot the extreme conclusions of Wellhausen, but substantially the\nconclusions shared in common by Wellhausen and Dillmann, by critics\ntheologically more conservative, like K\u00f6nig and Riehm, by Delitzsch in\nhis last position, by the French Catholic orientalist, F. Lenormant,\nas well as by an increasing body of English scholars[17]. Nor is there\na single line of what I wrote which would be affected, so far as I\nsee, even if Professor Margoliouth were satisfactorily to make out his\ncase for throwing back the period of the 'Middle Hebrew[18].' As to\nthe grounds on which we have been asked to date the bulk of the Psalms\nbelow the Captivity, and even in the Maccabean period, they may appear\nindeed quite unconvincing; but it would have been utterly beside my\npurpose, as it would also have been out of my power, to give them\nadequate discussion[19], nor would it seem as if even so improbably\nlate a date as that suggested would really affect their Messianic or\nspiritual character. Let us affirm then without any hesitation that\nthere is a good deal of arbitrariness and extremeness in current\ncriticism as applied to the Old Testament. But surely we should be the\nvictims of a dangerous delusion if we were to imagine that because\nthere is a good deal that is unsubstantial in recent criticism,\ntherefore there is no substantial force in what really represents the\nsuccessive labours of many generations of students. I do not think\nthat we can conceal from ourselves that if we are to defend a purely\nconservative attitude in regard to Old Testament literature, we shall\nrequire quite different canons of evidence from those which we are\nable so successfully to use in vindicating the historical character of\nthe New Testament: or again, in vindicating the claims of the\napostolic ministry and the sacramental system to be part of the\noriginal fabric of the Christian Church. In other words, the critical\nprinciples of historical enquiry which _do_ so amply justify us in\nretaining substantially the traditional position in regard as well to\nthe New Testament documents as to our Church principles, _do not_\ncarry us to the same point in the field of the Old Testament. No doubt\nthere the vastness of the field is a permanent obstacle to uniformly\ncertain results. A great deal must remain, and probably for ever, more\nor less an open question. But this necessary uncertainty, if it\nimposes on critics an obligation of caution, imposes also on us\nchurchmen an obligation of reserve in dogmatic requirement. We do not\nwish to run the risk of making a claim on men's minds for the\nacceptance of positions for which we have only this to urge, that they\ncannot be absolutely disproved.\n\n2. The changed view of the development of Old Testament literature,\nsuch as can be truly said to be proposed for our acceptance by modern\ncritics with a great deal of unanimity, _if it be granted for the\nmoment that it is compatible with the real inspiration of the books_,\ninvolves no important change in our spiritual use of the Old\nTestament; in the use of it for the purposes of 'faith and morals.'\nThis latter use of Scripture depends simply on our rightly\ninterpreting the meaning of the books as they exist.\n\nThere is a great principle enunciated by S.\u00a0Augustine in regard to the\nOld Testament which requires to be kept constantly in view. It is that\nas the Old Testament is manifested in the New, so the New Testament is\nlatent in the Old[20]. In order to recognize this there is no\ndiscussion necessary of the method by which our 'Old Testament'\nreceived its present shape. The evidence of it lies in the Old\nTestament considered as a finished product. As such, we cannot study\nthat 'divine library' without being struck both by its unity, so far\ngreater than belongs to any other literature[21], and by the fact that\nlike no other literature it looks forward to an end not yet attained,\na divine event in which is to be its justification and its\ninterpretation. The Old Testament demands the New to bring out its\ntrue meaning: the New appeals back to the Old to bear witness to the\ncontinuity of the divine purpose of which it is the outcome. It is\nfrom this point of view that we understand the appeal which, in the\nNew Testament, is so constantly made to the older Scriptures. Whether\nthey are appealed to, as in the Sermon on the Mount, as containing the\nrecord of a moral education, divine though imperfect, which the Christ\nwas to complete[22]; or as by St. Paul, as the record of a preparatory\nand temporary discipline by means of external enactments of God,\ncalculated to awaken the dull conscience of men to the reality and\nholiness of the divine will, and so to make men conscious of sin\nagainst God, and ready to welcome the dispensation of pardon and\ngrace[23]; or, as in the Epistle to the Hebrews, as a system of ritual\nand ceremonial observances, in which were shadowed forth by the\ninspiring Spirit[24] the deep truths of the still-needed sacrifice,\nand the access to God not yet won for man; or finally, as by almost\nall the New Testament writers, as a prophetic dispensation in which\nthe Messianic hope found gradual expression in fuller and exacter\nlineaments, and produced an anticipation which Christ only could\nsatisfy[25]:--from any of these points of view, or from all taken\ntogether, we are concerned only with the Old Testament as it finally\nappears, not with the method by which it came into being. It cannot be\ntoo strongly emphasized that when we seek reassurance in regard to the\ninspiration of those books of the Old Testament, to which our Lord and\nHis Church refer us, we find it primarily in the substance of the\nbooks as they are given to us, not in any considerations of the manner\nin which they came into existence[26].\n\nAnd if this is so, it needs to be borne in mind that the\nresponsibility for bringing it home to the consciences of men, the\nresponsibility for thus preventing that breach in religious continuity\nwhich the change in critical and literary conceptions of the Old\nTestament might otherwise occasion, lies in a preeminent degree upon\nthose of us who are most impressed with the valid elements of the\nrecent criticism. It belongs to us to see to it that, so far as lies\nwith us, the Bible shall not be less prized by the generations that\nare coming, as the divine, the inspired volume, than it has been by\nthe generations that are gone. It belongs to us to attend to the\ndouble admonition of the _De Imitatione_: 'Every scripture must be\nread in the same spirit in which it was written:' and 'Do not enquire\nwho said this, but pay heed to what is said.'\n\n3. There is one appeal which the New Testament makes to the Old which\nwas not alluded to above, as it does not in fact fall naturally under\nS.\u00a0Augustine's principle of the New Testament lying hid in the\nOld--namely the appeal to it as to a historical record of God's actual\ndealings with His people: a record of things which actually 'happened\nunto them for ensamples, and are written for our admonition.' But this\nappeal again would not be invalidated unless it were shown--not merely\nthat there is an ideal element mixed with the history in the Old\nTestament record, but--that the element which is not mere narrative of\nevents as they happened, the element of idealism, reaches to the point\nof obscuring the real significance of the facts and distorting their\ndivine meaning. Whereas the truth is that the ideal element in the\nnarrative comes from the real divine meaning in the facts being\nbrought into emphatic prominence rather than overlooked; and we may\ndepend upon it that no results of criticism have tended to weaken our\nbelief that the chroniclers of Israel's history, whether prophetic or\npriestly, were inspired to see its true meaning and tendency, and from\ntheir different points of view to bring it out in its completeness.\nAnd it is important to remember in this connection that the Jewish\nidea of 'history' was never our modern critical idea of a mere record.\nThey ranked their history from Joshua to the books of Kings under the\nhead of 'prophecy,' and intimate to us by this very classification\nthat they see in the historian one who not only records but interprets\nfacts[27].\n\n4. The changed view of the Old Testament books which modern criticism\nasks of us, concerns, then, not so much their contents, as the\ncircumstances of their composition and the method by which they\nreached their present form. When we pass to this latter class of\nconsiderations we are prepared for any information which criticism or\ntradition can give us, while at the same time our indestructible\nconviction, fortified by the strongest internal testimony of the\nbooks, that here is the Holy Spirit's work, gives us an antecedent\nexpectation that the mode of composition in the case of each book will\nbe such as God in His condescension can have sanctioned and used. God,\nI say, in His condescension--because undoubtedly the whole Old\nTestament does represent a condescension of God to a low stage of\nhuman development. Here then we need the recognition of a second great\nprinciple which S.\u00a0Augustine lays down, viz. that 'as wrong is done to\nthe Old Testament if it be denied to come from the just and good God,\nso wrong is done to the New if it be put on a level with the Old[28].'\n\nFor all the reality of its inspiration the Old Testament is on a lower\nlevel than the New. Thus it is now almost universally recognised that\nGod in the Old Testament is seen appealing to the human conscience at\na low stage of its development, tolerating what was not according to\nHis original will or His ultimate purpose[29], as in the case of\ndivorce, and even, as in the case of Abraham's sacrifice, appealing to\nmen to do things which in a more fully developed state of the\nconscience could not be even conceived of as commanded by God, in\norder that through their very obedience to the appeal they might be\nled higher into the knowledge of what God could, and could not,\nenjoin. How fully this principle in God's dealings was recognised and\njustified by the early Christian authorities has been already brought\nout in this volume[30].\n\nAgain, the same method of condescending to what was not in itself\nperfect, but was susceptible of a gradual education, appears in the\ninstitutions of the Old Testament law of worship. Modern enquirers are\npressing upon us the fact that the ritual law of Israel is closely\nakin to the common ritual customs of Semite races. 'What I may call\nthe natural basis of Israel's worship,' says Prof. Robertson Smith,\n'was very closely akin to that of the neighbouring cults[31].' The\npeculiarity of Israel's religion lay in fact not in the ritual itself,\nbut in the moral and theological turn given to the ritual. According\nto this view God in the law appears as diverting to good uses, by an\nact of condescension, ritual customs which it would have been\npremature to abolish. Such a view of the ritual is somewhat strange to\nthe ears of modern Churchmen, but it was undoubtedly the prevalent\nview of the law among the great writers of Christian antiquity.\nReferences to illustrate this have been given in the eighth essay[32].\n\nBut I may add to the passages there referred to another of very\nstriking force. S.\u00a0Chrysostom is explaining why God should have\nappealed to the astrological notions of the wise men and led them by\nno other leading than that of a star. It is because 'in exceeding\ncondescension He calls them through what is familiar.... In imitation\nof this Paul too reasons with the Greeks from an altar, and adduces\ntestimony from the poets, while he harangues the Jews with\ncircumcision, and makes from the sacrifices a beginning of instruction\nfor those who are living under the law. For since to every one\nfamiliar things are dear, therefore both God Himself and the men who\nwere sent from God, with a view to the salvation of the world, manage\nthings on this principle. Think it not then unworthy of Him to have\ncalled them by a star; for by the same rule thou wilt find fault with\nall the Jewish rites also--both the sacrifices and the purifications\nand the new moons, and the ark, and the temple itself. For all these\nthings had their origin from Gentile grossness. Yet God, on account of\nthe salvation of those in error, endured to be worshipped by means of\nthe very things through which those outside were worshipping demons,\nonly giving them a slight alteration, that little by little he might\ndraw them away from their customs and lead them up to the high\nphilosophy.'\n\nNow if we recognize that God in the Old Testament can condescend for\nthe purposes of His revelation to a low stage of conscience, and a low\nstage of worship, what possible ground have we for denying that He can\nuse for purposes of His inspiration literary methods also which belong\nto a rude and undeveloped state of intelligence? If He can 'inspire'\nwith true teaching the native Semite customs of ritual, why can He not\ndo the same with their traditions of old time? How can we reasonably\ndeny that the earlier portions of Genesis _may_ contain the simple\nrecord of primitive prehistoric tradition of the Semites[33], moulded\nand used by the Holy Spirit, as on all showing the record manifestly\nhas been moulded and used, to convey the fundamental principles of all\ntrue religion? Or again, granted that, on the 'dramatic' hypothesis,\nDeuteronomy written not by Moses, but in Moses' name, to incorporate\nthe Mosaic tradition, represents a literary method greatly inferior,\nin sense of exactitude, to the method of personal testimony as we have\nit in S.\u00a0John[34], or of careful investigation and use of original\ntestimony, as we have it in S.\u00a0Luke[35]; granted this--how can we, in\nview of the manifest facts of God's condescension, find ourselves in a\nposition to deny that He can have used such a method as a vehicle of\nHis inspiration[36]? There is, it must be emphasized, no critical\nreason why we should assign the composition of any book of the Old\nTestament to the motive of fraud. No doubt hostile critics have\nsometimes suggested, for example, that the 'discovery' of the book of\nthe law in the Temple in the days of Josiah was a 'got up' proceeding,\nthe book having really been written and hidden at the very time in\norder to be 'discovered'; but there is no positive evidence at all to\nsupport such a view, while all the evidence is satisfied by the\nhypothesis that an earlier prophet, some hundred years previously[37],\nworking upon an actual and possibly written tradition of Moses' last\nspeech, had cast this tradition into the dramatic form and\npromulgated, as from Moses' lips, the law which he knew to represent\nultimately Moses' authority or the authority of God in Moses. That\nsuch a method should have been adopted surprises us surely no more\nthan that Hosea should have been led to use such extraordinary means,\nas he seems in fact to have been enjoined to use, of revealing God's\nmind of love towards His people. It involves no intention to deceive,\nand the discovery of this 'book of the law,' lost in the careless\nperiod which intervened, was a genuine discovery unattended by any\nelement of fraud.\n\nOnce again, if the book of Chronicles contains not pure history but\nthe priestly view of the history, granted that this priestly point of\nview was _morally_ part of the divinely intended education of the\nchosen people, even though its intellectual method was as imperfect as\nordinarily is the case with the treatment of traditions in 'schools'\nor religious orders, in nations or churches or families, is there any\n_\u00e0 priori_ reason why God, who used so much that was imperfect, should\nnot have inspired the record of this tradition? Here again we must\nemphasize that all that _criticism_ requires of us is to recognise in\nthe book of Chronicles the record of the history as it became coloured\nin the priestly schools; there is nothing here of a morally unworthy\nsort from the point of view of the contemporary conscience, but only\nthe same features as are noticeable in the record of tradition all the\nworld over[38]. Fraudulent dealing, forgery in literature, always\ninvolves the conscious and deliberate use of methods calculated to\nimpose on others, _methods other than those sanctioned by the literary\nconscience of the time_[39].\n\nNo doubt a particular writer, like Wellhausen, may make a bias hostile\nto the supernatural apparent in his use of the critical method, and\nmay give in consequence an antitheological turn to his reconstruction\nof history; just as many a scientific writer has done with scientific\nfacts and scientific method. In view of this we must 'try the spirits'\nand not attribute too much force to the point of view of a particular\nindividual. But this will not be at all the same thing as rejecting\nthe modern method of criticism or repudiating those results which are\ncertainly accepted by many critics who are as far as possible from\nrejecting the supernatural[40].\n\n5. No serious attempt has, I think, been made to show that the view of\nthe development of the Old Testament literature which the modern\ncritical schools, with great unanimity, demand of us, is contrary to\nany determination of Church authority. By this it is not meant that\nthe theology of the Church suggests this view: it is not the function\nof the Church to advance literary knowledge, except indirectly; and\nthus the Church has not had the power to anticipate the critical, any\nmore than it had to anticipate the scientific movement. The advance of\nknowledge comes in all departments through the natural processes of\nintellectual enquiry. It is only now, in fact, that the critical\nproblem is before the Church; but now that it is before the Church it\ndoes not seem that the Church ought to have any _more_ difficulty in\nwelcoming it and assimilating it, than it has had in welcoming and\nassimilating the legitimate claims of science.\n\nWith reference to the bearing of Church authority on the present\ndiscussion, there are three points which I should wish to urge. First,\nthat the undivided Church never took action on the matter, in spite of\nan extravagant tendency to allegorism in Origen and those who were\ninfluenced by him.\n\nSecondly, that as a result of this the patristic theology leaves a\nwide opening at least for what we may call the modern way of regarding\nthe opening chapters of Genesis. Thus a Latin writer, of the fifth or\nsixth century, who gives an interesting summary of the Catholic faith,\nand is clearly nothing else but a recorder of accepted beliefs, after\nspeaking of the origin and fall of man and woman, continues thus:\n'These things are known through God's revelation to His servant Moses,\nwhom He willed to be aware of the state and origin of man, as the\nbooks which he produced testify. For all the divine authority (i.e.\nthe scriptural revelation) appears to exist under such a mode as is\neither the mode of history which narrates only what happened, or the\nmode of allegory in such sense that it cannot represent the course of\nhistory, or a mode made up of these two so as to remain both\nhistorical and allegorical[41].' A great deal more in the same sense\nas this might be produced.\n\nThirdly, it must be urged that since the division of Christendom no\npart of the Church appears really to have tightened the bond of\ndogmatic obligation. Our own formularies are of course markedly free\nfrom definition on the subject, and the refusal of the Roman Church to\ndefine the scope of inspiration, beyond the region of faith and\nmorals, has been remarkable[42].\n\n6. But does the authority of our Lord bind us to repudiate, in loyalty\nto Him, the modern views of the origin of the Old Testament books? On\nthis subject I wish to express my sincere regret that I should have\nwritten so briefly in my essay as to lay myself open to be\nmisunderstood to suggest our Lord's fallibility as a teacher. I trust\nthat the passage, as it has stood since the fourth edition[43], will\nbe at least recognised as plain in its meaning and theologically\ninnocent. I must ask leave to defer to another occasion the fuller\ndiscussion of this important subject in connection with the doctrine\nof the Person of Christ. Meanwhile I would suggest that the longer one\nthinks of it the more apparent it will become that _any hypothesis as\nto the origin of any one book of the Old Testament, which is\nconsistent with a belief in its inspiration, must be consistent also\nwith our Lord having given it His authorisation_. If His Spirit could\ninspire it, He, in that Spirit, could give it His recognition--His\nrecognition, that is to say, in regard to its spiritual function and\ncharacter. Thus as we scan carefully our Lord's use of the Old\nTestament books, we are surely struck with the fact that nothing[44]\nin His use of them depends on questions of authorship or date; He\nappeals to them in that spiritual aspect which abides through all\nchanges of literary theory--their testimony to the Christ: 'Search the\nScriptures ... they are they which testify of Me.' He would thus lead\nmen to ask about each book of the Old Testament simply the\nquestion,--What is the element of teaching preparatory to the\nIncarnation, what is the testimony to Christ, which it supplies? I do\nnot see how with due regard to the self-limitation which all use of\nhuman forms of thought and speech must on all showing have involved to\nthe Eternal Son, it can be a difficulty in the way of accepting the\nmodern hypothesis, that our Lord referred to the inspired books under\nthe only name by which His reference would have been intelligible to\nHis hearers. Unless He had violated the whole principle of the\nIncarnation, by anticipating the slow development of natural\nknowledge, He must have spoken of the Deuteronomist as 'Moses[45],' as\nnaturally as He spoke of the sun 'rising.' Nor does there seem in fact\nany greater difficulty in His speaking of one who wrote 'in the spirit\nand power' of Moses as Moses, than in His speaking of one who,\naccording to the prophecy, came 'in the spirit and power of Elias' as\nhimself, Elias. 'If ye will receive it, this is Elias.' 'Elias is\nalready come[46].'\n\nOnce more: if the Holy Spirit could use the tradition of the flood to\nteach men about divine judgments, then our Lord in the same Spirit can\nrefer to the flood, for the same purpose. It has however been recently\ndenied that this can be so, unless the tradition accurately represents\nhistory. 'I venture to ask,' Professor Huxley writes[47], 'what sort\nof value as an illustration of God's method of dealing with sin has an\naccount of an event that never happened?' I should like to meet this\nquestion by asking another. Has the story of the rich man and Lazarus\nany value as an illustration of God's method of dealing with men?\nUndoubtedly it has. Now what sort of narrative is this? Not a\nnarrative of events that actually happened, in the sense that there\nwas a particular beggar to whom our Lord was referring. The narrative\nis a _representative_ narrative[48], a narrative of what is constantly\noccurring under the form of a particular typical incident. Now the\nnarrative of the flood belongs to a quite different class of\nliterature, inasmuch as it is not due to any _deliberate_ action of\nimagination; but it resembles our Lord's story _at least_ in being\nrepresentative. It is no doubt based on fact. The traditions of the\nflood in all races must run back to a real occurrence. But the actual\noccurrence cannot be exactly estimated. What we have in Genesis is a\ntradition used as a vehicle for spiritual teaching. As the story is\ntold it becomes, like that of Dives and Lazarus, a typical narrative\nof what is again and again happening. Again and again, as in the\ndestruction of Jerusalem, or in the French Revolution, God's judgments\ncome on men for their sin: again and again teachers of righteousness\nare sent to warn of coming judgment and are ridiculed by a world which\ngoes on buying and selling, marrying and giving in marriage, till the\nflood of God's judgment breaks out and overwhelms them. Again and\nagain, through these great judgments there emerges a remnant, a\nfaithful stock, to be the fountain head of a new and fresh\ndevelopment. The narrative of the flood is a representative narrative,\nand our Lord, who used the story of Dives and Lazarus, can use this\ntoo[49].\n\n\nVI.\n\nProfessor Huxley's article alluded to just now is a somewhat\nmelancholy example of a mode of reasoning which one had hoped had\nvanished from 'educated circles' for ever--that namely which regards\nChristianity as a 'religion of a book' in such sense that it is\nsupposed to propose for men's acceptance a volume to be received in\nall its parts as on the same level, and in the same sense, Divine. On\nthe contrary, Christianity is a religion of a Person. It propounds for\nour acceptance Jesus Christ, as the revealer of the Father. The test\nquestion of the Church to her catechumens has never been: 'Dost thou\nbelieve the Bible?' but 'Dost thou believe that Jesus Christ is the\nSon of God?' If we do believe that, then we shall further believe in\nthe Bible: in the Old Testament as recording how God prepared the way\nfor Christ; in the New Testament as recording how Christ lived and\ntaught, and containing the witness borne to Him by His earthly friends\nand ministers. The Bible thus 'ought to be viewed as not a revelation\nitself, but a record of the proclaiming and receiving of a revelation,\nby a body which is still existent, and which propounds the revelation\nto us, namely the body of Christians commonly called the Church[50].'\nThe Bible is the record of the proclamation of the revelation, not the\nrevelation itself. The revelation is in the Person of Christ, and the\nwhole stress therefore of _evidential_ enquiry should be laid upon the\ncentral question whether the Divine claim made for Jesus Christ by the\nChurch is historically justified. The whole evidential battle of\nChristianity must thus be fought out on the field of the New\nTestament, not of the Old. If Christ be God, the Son of God,\nincarnate, as the Creeds assert, Christianity is true. No one in that\ncase will find any permanent difficulty in seeing that in a most real\nsense the Bible, containing both Old and New Testaments, is an\n'inspired volume.'\n\nNow faith in the Godhead of our Lord is very far from being a mere\nmatter of 'evidences.' On this enough is said by more than one writer\nin this volume[51]. But so far as 'historical evidences' go, we have\nthem in our generation in quite fresh force and power. For our New\nTestament documents have passed through a critical sifting and\nanalysis of the most trenchant and thorough sort in the fifty years\nthat lie behind us. From such sifting we are learning much about the\nprocess through which they took their present shape. But in all that\nis material we feel that this critical investigation has only\nreassured us in asserting the historical truth of the records on which\nour Christian faith rests. This reassurance has been both as to the\nsubstance, and as to the quality of the original apostolic testimony\nto Christ. As to its substance, because the critical investigation\njustifies us in the confident assertion--more confident as the\ninvestigation has been more thorough than ever before--that the Christ\nof our four Gospels, the Christ with His Divine claim and miraculous\nlife-giving power, the Christ raised from the dead the third day and\nglorified at God's right hand, the Christ who is the Son of God\nincarnate, is the original Jesus of Nazareth, as they beheld Him and\nbore witness who had been educated in closest intercourse with Him. We\nare reassured also as to the quality of the apostolic testimony. In\nsome ages testimony has been careless--so careless, so clouded with\nsuperstition and credulity, as to be practically valueless. But in the\napostles we have men who knew thoroughly the value of testimony and\nwhat depended upon it, who bore witness to what they had seen, and in\nall cases, save in the exceptional case of S.\u00a0Paul, to what they had\nseen over a prolonged period of years; whose conviction about Christ\nhad been gradually formed in spite of much 'slowness of heart,' and\neven persistent 'unbelief'; formed also in the face of Sadducean\nscepticism and in the consciousness of what would be said against\nthem; formed into such irresistible strength and unanimity by the\nsolid impress of facts that nothing could shake it, either in the\nindividual or in the body. Such testimony does all for us that\ntestimony can do in such a case. It supports externally and justifies\na traditional faith, which is commended to us at the same time\ninternally by its self-evidencing power. And with that faith as the\nstrength of our life we can await with confidence the issue of minor\ncontroversies.\n\nIt may be hoped that the discussion which this book has raised may do\ngood in two ways.\n\nIt may enable people to put the Bible into its right place in the\nfabric of their Christian belief. It may help to make it plain that in\nthe full sense the Christian's faith is faith only in a Person, and\nthat Person Jesus Christ: that to justify this faith he needs from the\nScriptures only the witness of some New Testament documents,\nconsidered as containing history: while his belief in the Bible as\ninspired is, speaking logically, subsequent to his belief in Christ,\nand even, when we include the New Testament, subsequent to his belief\nin the Church, as the Body of Christ, rather than prior to it[52].\n\nThere is also another good result to which we may hope to see the\npresent controversy minister--the drawing of a clear line in regard to\ndevelopment between the Old Testament and the New. For all modern\ncriticism goes to emphasize the gradualness of the process through\nwhich, under the Old Covenant, God prepared the way for Christ. Now\nall that can be brought to light in this sense, the Church can await\nwith indifference from a theological point of view, because it is of\nthe essence of the Old Testament to be the record of a gradual\nself-disclosure of God continuous and progressive till the incarnation\nof Jesus Christ. It is, on the other hand, of the essence of the New\nTestament revelation that, as given in Christ and proclaimed by His\napostles, it is, as far as this world is concerned, in its substance,\nfinal and adequate for all ages. It is this, because of its essential\nnature. If Christ is 'the Word made flesh,' the 'Son of God made Son\nof Man,' then finality essentially belongs to this disclosure of\nGodhead and this exhibition of manhood. 'He that hath seen Him hath\nseen the Father,' and he that hath seen Him hath seen perfect man,\nhath seen our manhood in its closest conceivable relation to God, at\nthe goal of all possible spiritual and moral development. All our\ngrowth henceforth can only be a growth into 'the measure of the\nstature of His fulness'--a growth into the understanding and\npossession of Him who was once manifested. Finality is of the essence\nof the New Covenant, as gradual communication of truth was of the Old.\n\nIf these two results are obtained, we shall not be liable any more to\nbe asked 'where we are going to stop' in admitting historical\nuncertainty. 'If you admit so much uncertainty in the Old Testament,\nwhy do you not admit the same in the New?' We shall not be liable to\nbe asked this question, because it will be apparent that the\nstarting-point as of enquiry, so of security, lies in the New\nTestament and then proceeds to extend itself to the Old. For us, at\nleast, the Old Testament depends upon the New, not the New upon the\nOld.\n\nNor shall we be liable any more to be asked, 'Why, if you admit so\nmuch development in actual substance in the truth revealed under the\nOld Covenant, cannot you admit a similar augmentation under the New?'\nThis question will be prevented, because it will be apparent that the\nessential conditions are different in the two cases. Progress in\nChristianity is always reversion to an original and perfect type, not\naddition to it: it is progress only in the understanding of the\nChrist. 'Regnum tuum, Domine, regnum omnium saeculorum; et dominatio\ntua in omni generatione et generationem.'\n\n C. G.\n\n PUSEY HOUSE,\n _July, 1890_.\n\n  The chief changes of any importance in this edition are (1) the\n  addition of a note at the end of the first essay; (2) the alteration\n  of a few sentences on pp. 289, 296-7 of Essay VII; (3) the\n  alteration of note 2 on p. 345 and note 1 on p. 346 in Essay VIII;\n  (4) the expansion on p. 357, \u00a7 6 of the opening sentences; (5) the\n  addition of an appendix on _The Christian Doctrine of Sin_.\n\n[3] By the phrase 'to attempt to put the Catholic faith into its right\nrelation to modern intellectual and moral problems' (Preface to First\nEdition) it was not by any means intended to suggest that the modern\nproblems or the modern sciences were the things of the first\nimportance and the faith only secondary. What was intended was that,\nas holding the Faith, we needed, as the Church has often needed, to\nbring that with which we are ourselves identified, into relation to\nthe claims, intellectual and practical, made upon us from outside.\n\n[4] Cf. Dr. Pusey, _University Sermons_, 1864-1879. 'Unscience, not\nscience, contrary to faith,' pp. 18 ff.\n\n[5] Cf. the history of the relations of the Church to Aristotelian\nphilosophy: Milman, _Latin Christianity_, ed. 4, vol. ix. pp. 110 ff.;\nand later the relations of Christianity to the Copernican astronomy:\nSalmon, _Infallibility of the Church_, p. 230.\n\n[6] See the tribute to his memory by Mr. G. J. Romanes: _Guardian_,\nJan. 29, 1890.\n\n[7] From S.\u00a0Bernard's most touching sermon (_in Cant. 26_) on the\ndeath of his brother Gerard.\n\n[8] See Essay VI. pp. 226-227, 250 ff.; Essay VIII. pp. 324-327; and\nEssay IX. pp. 384-390.\n\n[9] See Preface, p. ix. note 1.\n\n[10] Cf. Dr. Westcott's note on 1 S.\u00a0John iii.\u00a04, \u1f21 \u1f01\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03af\u03b1 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u1f76\u03bd \u1f21\n\u1f00\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03af\u03b1.\n\n[11] Cf. F. Lenormant, _Les Origines de l'histoire_. Paris, 1880, t.\n1, p. 191. 'C'est dans la race de Qa\u00een que la Bible place l'invention\ndes arts et des m\u00e9tiers. \"Les fils du si\u00e8cle sont plus habiles que les\nenfants de lumi\u00e8re.\"'\n\n[12] Cf. p. 534.\n\n[13] Cf. p. 535, note 1.\n\n[14] Cf. F. Lenormant, _Les Origines_, t. 1, pp. 63-66. It is a\npleasure to refer to this work by a distinguished Catholic and man of\nlearning. The Preface is an admirable discussion of the relation of\nscientific enquiry to belief in Inspiration.\n\n[15] _Oxford Diocesan Gazette_, July, 1890 (Parker, Oxford), p. 91.\n\n[16] The summary statements on pp. 351-2 as to the historical\ncharacter of the Old Testament represent, I believe, a 'conservative'\nattitude, an attitude towards the history very unlike that, for\ninstance, of Wellhausen.\n\n[17] See Ed. Riehm, _Einleitung in das A. T._ (Halle, 1889), \u00a7\u00a7 15-18,\n24, 27. F. E. K\u00f6nig, _Offenbarungsbegriff des A. T._ (Leipzig, 1882),\nt. 11, pp. 321 ff. Cf. also _Hauptprobleme der Altisr.-Religionsgesch._\n(Leipzig, 1884). F. Delitzsch, _Genesis_, Clark's trans. (Edinb.,\n1888), i.\u00a019-38. F. Lenormant, _Les Origines_, Pr\u00e9face. I venture to\nthink that those who want to study the modern criticism of the Old\nTestament would be less likely to be prejudiced against it if they\nwere to begin their study with the assistance of Riehm and K\u00f6nig,\nrather than of more rationalistic scholars. I ought to add that while\nthe scholars mentioned above agree substantially as to the analysis of\nthe Pentateuch, they differ as to the position assigned to the\nPriestly Code, which Dillmann and Riehm hold to be prior to\nDeuteronomy, Wellhausen, K\u00f6nig and Delitzsch subsequent to it.\n\n[18] _Essay on the place of Ecclesiasticus in Semitic Literature._\nOxford: Clarendon Press, 1890, pp. 20, 21. I allude to this essay\nbecause it has excited considerable interest, but it has not received\nfavourable notice from critics either English or German. For a review\nby a very competent critic, see Prof. N\u00f6ldeke in the _Lit.\nCentralblatt_, July 12, 1890.\n\n[19] I may say that the motive for what is said about Ps. cx on p. 359\nwas simply the conviction that our Lord in the passage there in\nquestion cannot fairly be taken as giving instruction on a critical\nquestion of authorship, not the difficulty of assigning the particular\nPsalm to the age of David. The solution which I propose, p. 359, as to\nour Lord's words is however only one of several which are possible\neven for those who agree with me in the conviction expressed above.\nSee, for instance, Edersheim, _Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah_\n(London, 1884), ii. p. 406, and Bp. Thirlwall as quoted in Dean\nPerowne's _Commentary on the Psalms_ (London 1871), ii. pp. 302 ff.\n\n[20] S.\u00a0Augustine, _Qu\u00e6st. 73 in Exod._: 'Quamquam et in vetere\n[Testamento] novum lateat, et in novo vetus pateat.' Quoted by Dr.\nLiddon, _The worth of the Old Testament_, p. 28.\n\n[21] Cf. Didymus _in Psalm._ xxi.\u00a019, where he interprets Christ's\n'seamless robe,' of the Holy Scriptures which they 'part' who accept\none and reject another. 'This robe of Jesus is also indivisible, for\nit is seamless. Its unity is not enforced but natural [\u03bf\u1f50 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1\n\u03b2\u03b5\u03b2\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd \u1f15\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03c6\u03c5\u1fc6 \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9]; it is 'from above' [from the\ntop, A.V.] because it is inspired; it is 'woven throughout,' because\nin its whole force it is from above.'\n\n[22] S.\u00a0Matt. v.\u00a017-48, cf. xix.\u00a08: 'Moses, because of the hardness of\nyour hearts,' etc.\n\n[23] After S.\u00a0Paul, S.\u00a0Augustine is the great exponent of this\nprinciple in early days; see esp. _de spiritu et littera_, xix.\u00a0(34):\nLex ergo data est ut gratia quaereretur: gratia data est ut lex\nimpleretur.\n\n[24] See esp. Heb. ix.\u00a08, 'The Holy Spirit this signifying;' and cf.\nDr. Westcott on this Epistle, pp. 233 ff.\n\n[25] I would venture to recommend Riehm's _Messianic Prophecy_\n(Clark's trans.), as a summary account of prophecy both reverent and\ncritical.\n\n[26] Cf. Hooker's account of our grounds for believing that 'Scripture\n... is divine and sacred.' 'By experience,' he says, 'we all know,\nthat the first outward motive leading men so to esteem of the\nScripture is the authority of God's Church.... Afterwards the more we\nbestow our labour in reading or hearing the mysteries thereof, the\nmore we find that the thing itself doth answer our received opinion\nconcerning it.' Later again, as against 'infidels or atheists,' we\nmust 'maintain the authority of the books of God ... by such kind of\nproofs ... that no man living shall be able to deny it, without\ndenying some apparent principle such as all men acknowledge to be\ntrue.' _E. P._ III. viii.\u00a014.\n\n[27] The Chronicles and the later historical books, as is well known,\nwere included in the third class of 'Hagiographa' with the Psalmists\nand Moralists.\n\nThe truth of this paragraph depends upon (1) the character, (2) the\nextent of the idealism of Old Testament facts. On this something more\nis said later on. Here I am only concerned to distinguish an idealism\nwhich truly interprets facts, even if it throws their spiritual\nmeaning into high relief, from a merely imaginative treatment which\nperverts and distorts them. Thus if the Chronicler idealizes, it is by\nemphasizing, beyond the point of actual fact, the priestly element in\nthe history which at the same time did both really exist and really\nrepresent the divine purpose.\n\n[28] _De Gestis Pelag._ v. (15), 'Sicut veteri Testamento si esse ex\nDeo bono et summo negetur, ita et novo fit injuria si veteri\naequetur.' S.\u00a0Augustine does not perhaps carry out the recognition of\nthis principle as fully as some other of the Fathers: for refs. see\npp. 229 ff.\n\n[29] S.\u00a0Matt. xix.\u00a08.\n\n[30] See pp. 329 ff.\n\n[31] _Religion of the Semites._ Edinburgh, 1889, p. 4.\n\n[32] p. 329, note 2. The passage here added is from S.\u00a0Chrysost. _in\nMatt._ vi.\u00a03. The same idea is discerned by Bp. Lightfoot in S.\u00a0Paul;\nsee on Gal. iv.\u00a011.\n\n[33] I use the word 'myth' for those primitive stories on p. 356. The\nlegitimacy of this use may be disputed, see e.g. Riehm, _Einleitung_,\np. 342. But I endeavour to explain exactly the sense in which the word\nis used. On Strauss's application of the myth theory to the Gospel\nnarratives, I should quite assent to the remarks of Dr. Mill,\n_Mythical Interpretation of the Gospels_ (Cambridge, 1861), pp. 97,\n98.\n\n[34] S.\u00a0John i.\u00a014, xix.\u00a035, xxi.\u00a024; 1 S.\u00a0John i.\u00a01-3.\n\n[35] S.\u00a0Luke i.\u00a01-4.\n\n[36] I would call attention in this connection to Dr. Salmon's remarks\non S.\u00a0Jude's use, even in the New Testament canon, of the traditions\ncontained in the Assumption of Moses, and his quotation of the book of\nEnoch: see at the end of his lecture on S.\u00a0Jude's Epistle in the\n_Introduction to the New Testament_.\n\n[37] Cf. Riehm, _Einleitung_, i. p. 246: 'Das Gesetzbuch kann nicht\nerst unter Josia geschrieben sein, sondern es muss sp\u00e4testens zur Zeit\ndes Hiskia entstanden sein, und zwar bevor dieser K\u00f6nig seine\nReformation ganz durchgef\u00fchrt hatte.'\n\n[38] A common feature in all traditions is what Wellhausen describes\nas the main characteristic of the Chronicler, 'the timeless manner of\nlooking at things which is natural to him.' He 'figures the old Hebrew\npeople as in exact conformity with the pattern of the later Jewish\ncommunity.' _Proleg. to Hist. of Israel_ (Edinburgh, 1885), pp.\n190-193. In tradition what _is_ authoritative tends to be represented\nas what _always has been_ authoritative.\n\n[39] Thus the Pseudo-Isidorian Decretals are properly called\nforgeries; and the evidence of this would lie in the fact that the\nauthor could not have afforded to disclose the method and\ncircumstances of their production.\n\n[40] Thus Riehm, whose position is described above on p. xx, has a\nnoble section (_Einleit._ pp. 349 ff.) on the Pentateuch considered as\nthe record of a Revelation. The conviction of the revelation of God is\nascribed in part to 'the immediate impression which the Pentateuch\nmakes. Anyone who reads it, so as to allow its contents to work upon\nhis spirit, must receive the impression that a consciousness of God,\nsuch as is here expressed, cannot be derived from flesh and blood.'\n\n[41] _De fide Catholica._ The treatise is ascribed to Boethius: see\nBoetii, _Opuscula Sacra_ (Teubner Series), p. 178. On the fresh\nevidence of the authorship of those treatises supplied by the\n_Anecdoton Holderi_ see Hodgkin's _Letters of Cassiodorus_, London,\n1886, pp. 80-1.\n\n[42] See the account in Manning's _Temporal Mission of the Holy\nGhost_, London, 1877, pp. 156-160, and p. 166. Cf. also Newman's words\nbelow, p. 350.\n\n[43] pp. 359-60.\n\n[44] Nothing--except, on the customary interpretation, His reference\nto Psalm cx. This does seem to lay stress on David's authorship,\nunless it be regarded, as it certainly seems to me fair to regard it,\nas a question, rather than as positive instruction at all--a question\nsimply calculated to lead the Pharisees to examine their own\nprinciples. Unless it be so interpreted it does seem to depend, as an\nargument, on personal authorship, because unless it be by David, it\nseems very difficult to suppose it written in David's person. It would\nnaturally be a Psalm in which _the King is addressed_.\n\n[45] S.\u00a0John v.\u00a046-47.\n\n[46] S.\u00a0Luke i.\u00a017; S.\u00a0Matt. xi.\u00a014; xvii.\u00a012.\n\n[47] _Nineteenth Century_, July, 1890, p. 20. The bulk of his argument\nis directed against a position different from mine. Here I am only\nconcerned with a single point.\n\n[48] The proper name 'Lazarus' is presumably used because of its\nmeaning. It should be noticed that the story is not a _parable_ proper\nlike that of the Sower or the Prodigal Son.\n\n[49] It may be remarked that to regard 'the flood' as a representative\nor typical expression of a whole class of divine judgments, helps us\nin interpreting S.\u00a0Peter's use of it in 1 Peter iii.\u00a019-20. There is\nno reason for an exceptional treatment of those who perished in one\nparticular flood, but there is every reason why 'the Gospel should\nhave been preached to those who died' under God's physical judgments\nof old times, supposing these, as we must suppose them, not to\nrepresent God's final moral judgment on individuals: see 1 Peter\niv.\u00a06.\n\n[50] These words are Bishop Steere's: see the _Memoir_ of him by R. M.\nHeanley, London, 1888, p. 404. He admirably characterizes the true\nfunction of the Bible in the Church. It is (1) a criterion, not a\nteacher; (2) a record of the proclamation of the revelation, not the\nrevelation itself.\n\n[51] See pp. 29 ff., 229 ff., 337 ff.\n\n[52] Cp. pp. 338-341, where this is explained. The 'logical' order of\nbelief is often no doubt not the order of experience. The Bible can\ndraw men to itself, and through itself to Christ, before they take any\nheed of the Church. But to feel the power of inspiration is a\ndifferent thing from having reasoned grounds for calling certain books\ninspired.\n\n\n\n\nSYNOPSIS OF CONTENTS.\n\n\nI.\n\nFAITH.\n                                                                       PAGE\n    I. Faith; its situation; its behaviour; challenged by novel\n       experiences; alarmed at its own perplexity                       3-5\n\n       Yet why alarmed?                                                   5\n\n       Perplexity consistent with faith, when faith is stripped of\n       its habitual corroborations from without: and summoned to\n       submit itself to internal observation                            5-8\n\n       For faith is an elemental act of personal self: and,\n       therefore, like all such acts, e.g. of thought; will; love;\n       is, necessarily, incapable of offering itself for\n       scientific examination                                          8-11\n\n   II. What is faith?                                                 11-12\n\n       The motion in us of our sonship in the Father; the\n       conscious recognition, and realization, of our inherent\n       filial adhesion to God                                         13-15\n\n       This intimacy of relationship is capable of indefinite\n       growth, of 'supernatural' development                             15\n\n       The history of faith is the gradual discovery of this\n       increasing intimacy                                            16-18\n\n       The demand for faith is (_a_) _universal_, for all are sons;\n       (_b_) _urgent_, as appealing to a vital fact;\n       (_c_) _tolerant_, as reposing on existent fact                 18-21\n\n  III. Faith, an act of _basal_ personality, at the root of\n       all outflowing activities; is present, as animating force,\n       within all natural faculties. When summoned out, into\n       positive or direct action on its own account = Religion,\n       i.e. the emergence, into open manifestation, of Fatherhood\n       and sonship, which lie hidden within all secular life          21-28\n\n       Faith, an energy of basal self, using, as instruments and\n       material, the sum of faculties; therefore, each faculty,\n       _separately_, can give but a _partial_ vindication of an\n       integral act of faith                                          28-29\n\n       This applies to _Reason_; compare its relation to acts\n       of affection, imagination, chivalry; all such acts are acts\n       of _Venture_, using evidence of reason in order to go\n       beyond evidence                                                30-34\n\n       So faith makes use of all knowledge, but is, itself, its\n       own motive. It uses, as its instrument, every stage of\n       science; but is pledged to no one particular stage             34-38\n\n   IV. Faith, simple adhesion of soul to God; yet, once begun, it\n       has a history of its own; long, complicated, recorded in\n       Bible, stored up in Creeds                                     38-41\n\n       This involves difficulties, intricacies, efforts; all this,\n       the necessary consequence of our being born in the 'last\n       days'                                                          41-45\n\n       Yet to the end, faith remains an act of personal and\n       spiritual adhesion                                             45-46\n\n    V. Faith, not only covers a long past, but anticipates the\n       future; it pledges itself ahead, e.g. in the case of\n       'ordination vows.' Such pledges justified, because the act\n       of faith is personal; and the object of faith is final,\n       i.e. 'Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever'        46-54\n\n\nII.\n\nTHE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF GOD.\n\n    I. Object of the essay and attitude assumed                       57-59\n\n   II. A broad contrast between the God of Philosophy and the God\n       of religion                                                    59-60\n\n       Attempts to get rid of the opposition (1) by division of\n       territory; (2) by confusion of terms                           60-63\n\n  III. Religion demands that God shall be Personal, and stand in a\n       moral relationship with man                                    63-65\n\n   IV. Growth and purification of the religious conception of God     65-68\n\n    V. _Religion and Morals._ Collision between the two in Greece,\n       and its consequences. Synthesis of religion and morality\n       among the Jews: and in Christianity                            68-78\n\n       Subsequent collisions between religion and morals within\n       the Christian Church. The Reformation a moral protest.\n       Immorality of its later developments. Modern protest\n       against these                                                  78-82\n\n   VI. _Religion and Reason._ Protest of Greek Philosophy against\n       Polytheism. Christian Theology the meeting-point of Jewish\n       religion and Greek Philosophy                                  82-86\n\n       What Theology is. Objection to it from the side of\n       (1) religion, (2) philosophy                                   86-90\n\n       The Christian doctrine of the Trinity an appeal to the\n       reason                                                         90-91\n\n       Its answer to the speculative problems of Greek thought\n       (1) as to what unity is; (2) as to the immanence of reason\n       in nature                                                      91-95\n\n       The witness of the Fathers                                        95\n\n       The doctrine of the Trinity the true Monotheism; the\n       doctrine of the _Logos_ as personal yet immanent               95-96\n\n  VII. The Christian doctrine of God why challenged in the present\n       day                                                               96\n\n       The deism of the last century. The new science of nature.\n       Evolution restores the truth of the Divine immanence which\n       deism denied. Pantheistic reaction                            96-102\n\n       The Christian doctrine of God the safeguard of rational\n       religion against deism and pantheism                         102-103\n\n VIII. The so-called 'proofs' of the existence of God               103-104\n\n       Parallel between the belief in God and the belief in nature  104-107\n\n       Verification in experience the only 'proof.' Reason in both\n       the interpreter of Faith                                     107-109\n\n\nIII.\n\nTHE PROBLEM OF PAIN.\n\n   The problem of pain admits of no new treatment, but the attempt\n   to use it as an argument against Christianity calls for a\n   recapitulation of what may be said on the other side                 113\n\n   Pain is (1) animal, (2) human.\n\n   (1) Animal pain is a thing of which we can only form\n       imaginative conjectures; and these, besides being liable to\n       exaggeration, are not of a nature to form premisses for\n       argument                                                     113-116\n\n   (2) Common sense tells us that human pain contributes as\n       (_a_) punitive, (_b_) purgatorial, (_c_) prophylactic,\n       to the development of the individual and the race            116-119\n\n   Natural religion further views it as the necessary condition of\n   approach, by sinful beings, to the Divine; and looks for its\n   fuller explanation to a future existence                         119-122\n\n   Christianity carries on the view of natural religion, and sees\n   in pain and suffering:--\n\n   (_a_) The antidote to sin                                        122-124\n\n   (_b_) The means of individual and social progress                124-125\n\n   (_c_) The source of sympathy with man                                125\n\n   (_d_) The secret of union with God                               125-126\n\n\nIV.\n\nPREPARATION IN HISTORY FOR CHRIST.\n\n   General considerations on the study of the historical\n   preparation, as part of the study of the Incarnation             129-133\n\n   Special value of such study in the present age of historical\n   and scientific method which\n\n       may be able to gauge finally the value of naturalist\n       theories of the origin of Christianity                       133-134\n\n       may find its own congenial 'signs' in the beauty of\n       manifold preparing process; in the wonder of an apparently\n       unique convergence of lines of preparation                   134-137\n\n    I. General preparation--in the world at large:\n\n       (1) In the shaping of its external order                     138-142\n\n       (2) Through its inward experiences of\n\n           Failure                                                  142-146\n\n           Progress                                                 146-150\n\n   II. Special preparation--in Israel:\n\n       (1) The singularity of Israel's external position at the\n           critical moment of the Christian Era                     150-156\n\n       (2) The paradox of its inward character                      156-159\n\n       (3) The peculiar influences which had made it what it was:   159-160\n\n           _a._ Prophecy                                            160-167\n\n           _b._ The Law                                             167-169\n\n           _c._ The Course of its History                           170-175\n\n  III. The independence of the two preparations; the paradox of\n       their fulfilment in one Christ                               175-178\n\n\nV.\n\nTHE INCARNATION AND DEVELOPMENT.\n\n    I. The theory of evolution has recalled our minds to the\n       'cosmical significance' of the Incarnation, which was a\n       prominent thought in (1) the early (2) mediaeval church      181-187\n\n   II. Theology and Science move in different but parallel planes:\n       one gives the meaning, the other the method of creation      187-188\n\n       Thus the doctrine of 'the Eternal Word' is compatible with\n       all the verified results of scientific teaching on\n\n       (1) energy                                                       188\n\n       (2) teleology                                                188-193\n\n       (3) origin and antiquity of man                              193-195\n\n       (4) mental and moral evolution                               195-199\n\n       (5) the relation of philosophy to Theology                   199-202\n\n       (6) the comparative study of religions                       202-205\n\n       while in the Christian view, it both illuminates and is\n       illuminated by those results                                 205-206\n\n  III. But when the planes intersect, and we say 'the Word was\n       made flesh,' we are said to traverse experience                  207\n\n       (1) This charge is only a critical presumption               207-208\n\n       (2) All novelties traverse past experience                       208\n\n       (3) Moral experience is as real as physical                  208-209\n\n       (4) The Incarnation harmonizes with our moral experience     209-210\n\n       (5) By reorganizing morality it reorientates character           211\n\n       (6) It has therefore a true relation to all phases of human\n           life                                                     211-214\n\n\nVI.\n\nTHE INCARNATION AS THE BASIS OF DOGMA.\n\n    I. The principle of Dogma is not to be attacked or defended\n       on _\u00e0 priori_ grounds. The real question is whether\n       the Incarnation, as asserted, is true or false. And this is\n       a question for evidence                                      217-220\n\n       Even scientific 'dogmata' differ less from religious dogmas\n       than is sometimes supposed, in that (_a_) both are received\n       on evidence, (_b_) both require an experimental verification,\n       or (in so far as either are still held along with error)\n       correction                                                   220-224\n\n       The acceptance of dogmatic truth is essentially reasonable.\n       Its claims to (_a_) authority, (_b_) finality, are not the\n       ground for accepting it, but a necessary outcome of the facts\n       accepted in it                                               224-229\n\n   II. The evidence for the Incarnation is as many-sided as human\n       life                                                         229-233\n\n       But primarily historical. The crucial fact is the\n       Resurrection                                                 233-236\n\n       Everything is involved in the answer to 'What think ye of\n       Christ?'                                                     236-238\n\n       It is an error to think of the belief of the Church as an\n       edifice built up in the age of the Councils                  238-239\n\n       The decisions of the Councils represent only a growth in\n       intellectual precision through experience of error           239-245\n\n       The creed in its whole substance is the direct outcome of\n       the fact of the Incarnation                                  245-250\n\n  III. The dogmatic creed is to be distinguished from the body of\n       theological literature which comments upon it                    250\n\n       Theological comment is variable: it may err, it may\n       develop. Herein lie most of the disputes of technical, and\n       the advances of popular, theology                            250-255\n\n       Even the creeds are human on the side of their language      255-258\n\n   IV. The 'damnatory clauses,' though easily misunderstood,\n       really mean what is both true, and necessary                 258-260\n\n       Christian dogmatism is after all devotion to truth, for\n       truth's sake                                                 260-261\n\n    V. The modern reading of the Scriptures without miracle and\n       the Christ without Godhead depends for its justification\n       upon the truth of an hypothesis                              262-266\n\n       But this hypothesis explains away, instead of explaining,\n       the evidence; while it is itself incapable of proof          266-270\n\n       Historical reality is essential to the truth of the\n       Incarnation. Mere spiritualism ends in unreality             270-272\n\n\nVII.\n\nTHE ATONEMENT.\n\n    I. Sin and sacrifice in relation to the Atonement               275-276\n\n       1. Twofold character of sin:--\n\n          (_a_) A state of alienation from God                      276-277\n\n          (_b_) A state of guilt                                    277-279\n\n       2. Twofold character of sacrifice:--\n\n          (_a_) The expression of man's original relation to God    279-280\n\n          (_b_) The expiation of sin, and propitiation of wrath     280-281\n\n          Both aspects shewn in the ceremonies of the Mosaic Law    281-282\n\n       3. Inadequacy of man's offerings to satisfy sense of\n          personal guilt                                            282-285\n\n   II. The death of Christ answers to the demands of the sense of\n       sin and of the desire for forgiveness                            285\n\n       1. Christ's death a sacrifice of propitiation:--\n\n          (_a_) Of the wrath of God, which is--\n\n                (1) The hostility of Divine Nature to sin           285-287\n\n                (2) The expression of the eternal law of\n                    righteousness                                      288\n\n          (_b_) By virtue--\n\n                (1) Of the obedience manifested by Him              289-290\n\n                (2) Of His recognition of the Divine justice            290\n\n                (3) Of His death as the necessary form of both      290-292\n\n                    The propitiatory character of His death shewn--\n\n                      (i.) By the general relation between\n                           physical and spiritual death             292-293\n\n                     (ii.) Because of the nature of Him who\n                           endured it                               293-294\n\n                    (iii.) Because of the results flowing from it       294\n\n          (_c_) On behalf of men, for He is our Representative--\n\n                (1) As Victim, by His perfect humanity our\n                    sinbearer                                       294-297\n\n                (2) As Priest, able to offer what man could not     297-298\n\n                    The true vicariousness of His Priesthood            298\n\n       2. Christ's death the source of life                         298-299\n\n          (_a_) As delivering us from sin                               299\n\n          (_b_) As bestowing new life                                   299\n\n          (_c_) As uniting us to God                                    299\n\n                But only as connected with and issuing in the\n                Resurrection and Ascension                          300-301\n\n       3. Christ's death in relation to man's responsibility            301\n\n          (_a_) The Atonement, being forgiveness, must remit\n                some of the consequences of sin                     301-302\n\n          (_b_) But our mystical union with Christ ensures\n                our share in the sacrifice                          302-303\n\n                (1) Not in its propitiation, which we can only\n                    plead                                           303-304\n\n                (2) But by faith which accepts it and recognises\n                    its justice                                     304-305\n\n                (3) And by following Him in obedience through\n                    suffering                                       305-307\n\n  III. Consideration of certain erroneous statements of the\n       doctrine                                                         307\n\n       1. The implied divergence of Will in the Godhead             307-308\n\n       2. The view of Redemption as wrought for us, not in us           308\n\n       3. The view that Christ redeemed us by taking our\n          punishment instead of us                                      309\n\n          (1) The essential punishment of alienation He could not\n              bear                                                      309\n\n          (2) The penal sufferings which He bore are not remitted\n              to us                                                     309\n\n          (3) But He bore them that we, like Him, may bear them\n              sacrificially, not as punishment                      309-310\n\n   IV. Short summary.\n\n       1. The death of Christ as propitiatory      } tested by\n                                                   }\n       2. His death as transforming pain and death } experience     310-312\n\n\nVIII.\n\nTHE HOLY SPIRIT AND INSPIRATION.\n\n   Christianity is an experienced or manifested life: because its\n   essence is the possession of the Spirit, and the Spirit is Life  315-317\n\n    I. The Holy Spirit the life-giver:--\n\n          In nature                                                 317-318\n\n          In man                                                    318-319\n\n          In the gradual recovery of man from sin                   319-320\n\n          In Christ                                                 320-321\n\n          In the Church                                             321-322\n\n       His work in the Church:--\n\n          1. Social or ecclesiastical                               322-323\n\n          2. Nourishing individuality: both of character through\n             the Sacraments, and of judgment through authority      323-327\n\n          3. Consecrating the whole of nature, material as well as\n             spiritual                                              327-328\n\n          4. By a gradual method                                        328\n\n             Imperfection of the Old Testament                      328-331\n\n                   \"      of the Church                             331-332\n\n       The Holy Spirit personally present and continually\n       operative in the Church                                      332-333\n\n   II. The Theology of the Holy Spirit. Real but limited\n       knowledge through revelation                                 334-335\n\n       He is (_a_) distinct in Person but very God,\n       (_b_) proceeding from the Father and the Son,\n       (_c_) One in essence with the Father and the Son             334-335\n\n       The Doctrine of the Trinity not Tritheistic                  335-336\n\n  III. The Inspiration of Holy Scripture. Fatal results of not\n       keeping this in context with the rest of the Holy Spirit's\n       work in the Church                                           337-340\n\n       1. It is an article of the Faith, not among its bases        340-341\n\n       2. It is a necessary article                                     341\n\n       3. Its certain and primary meaning, as seen by examination\n          of the books of the Old and New Testaments                341-348\n\n       4. Its practical meaning and obligation                      349-351\n\n          Questions raised as to its meaning by Old Testament\n          criticism:--\n\n          (_a_) While the Old Testament is, like the New\n                Testament, certainly and really historical, can it\n                admit of elements of idealism in the narrative?     351-354\n\n          (_b_) Can it admit of dramatic composition?               354-356\n\n          (_c_) Can it admit the presence of primitive myths?       356-357\n\n       The Church not prevented from admitting these to be open\n       questions either:--\n\n          (1) By any dogmatic definitions of inspiration            357-358\n\n          (2) By our Lord's language as to the Old Testament        358-360\n\n       We may expect the criticism of the Old Testament, like that\n       of the New, to deepen and enlarge, not impair, our\n       reverence for the 'Word of God'                              360-362\n\n\nIX.\n\nTHE CHURCH.\n\n   The Church the final satisfaction of certain social instincts,\n   viz. the need of co-operation for life, for knowledge, and for\n   worship                                                              365\n\n   These instincts are:--\n\n       (1) Universal                                                365-368\n\n       (2) Embodied in Judaism, and combined with the principle\n           of God's election of one people to be a source of\n           blessing to others                                       368-370\n\n       (3) Fulfilled in the Incarnation                             370-372\n\n    I. The Church as the centre of spiritual life: offers its\n       blessings, without limitation, to all who are willing to\n       submit to spiritual discipline, and combines them in a\n       brotherhood of common service                                372-375\n\n       Hence it is, of necessity:--\n\n       (1) A _visible_ body                                         375-377\n\n       (2) _One_, both in its spiritual life and in external\n           organization. This unity implied in the New Testament,\n           and explained in the second century, as centering in\n           the Episcopate. The Apostolical Succession is thus the\n           pledge of historic continuity, and has always been the\n           mark of the English Church. Loyalty to the Church is no\n           narrowing of true sympathy                               377-384\n\n   II. The Church as the Teacher of Truth: primarily by bearing\n       witness to truths revealed to it; secondarily by\n       interpreting the relation of these truths to each other      384-387\n\n       Hence:--\n\n       (1) It witnesses to the reality of central spiritual truths\n           and teaches them authoritatively to its members              387\n\n       (2) It trains its members to a rational apprehension of\n           these truths                                             387-388\n\n       (3) It leaves great freedom on points not central            388-389\n\n       (4) It protects the truths themselves from decay             389-390\n\n  III. The Church the home of worship: worship the Godward\n       expression of its life: its highest expression in the\n       Eucharist: its priestly work earned out from the first by\n       a special class of ministers                                 390-393\n\n       Each aspect of the Church's work completed by the\n       co-operation of the Blessed Dead                                 394\n\n       Causes of the apparent failure of the Church                 394-400\n\n       Need of its witness and work in modern times                 400-402\n\n\nX.\n\nSACRAMENTS.\n\n   Comprehensiveness a characteristic distinction of fruitful and\n   enduring work: which will here be traced in the sacramental\n   work of the Church; with incidental reference to the evidential\n   import of the inner coherence of Christianity, and its perfect\n   aptness for humanity                                             405-408\n\n    I. Christianity claims to be a way of life for men: whose\n       nature and life involve two elements; which are usually\n       distinguished as bodily and spiritual                        408-409\n\n       The distinction of these two elements real; their union\n       essential                                                    409-411\n\n       It is to be inquired whether this complexity of man's\n       nature is recognised and provided for in the Church of\n       Christ                                                           411\n\n   II. Grounds for anticipating that it would be so:--\n\n       (1) In the very fact of the Incarnation; and more\n           particularly                                             411-413\n\n       (2) In the character of the preparatory system whose\n           forecasts it met                                         413-414\n\n       (3) And in certain conspicuous features of Christ's\n           ministry                                                 414-415\n\n       The work of Sacraments to be linked with this anticipation       415\n\n  III. The prominence of the Sacramental principle in Christ's\n       teaching: to be estimated with reference to the previous\n       convictions of those whom He taught                          415-416\n\n       There is thus found:--\n\n       (1) Abundant evidence that the general principle of\n           Sacraments is accepted, to be a characteristic of\n           Christianity                                             416-417\n\n       (2) The authoritative appointment of particular expressions\n           for this general principle:--\n\n           Expressions foreshown in preparatory history:\n           anticipated in preliminary discourses: appointed with\n           great solemnity and emphasis                             417-418\n\n           [These expressions such as may be seen to be\n           intrinsically appropriate, ethically helpful and\n           instructive, and safeguards against individualism.]      418-420\n\n       (3) An immediate recognition in the Apostolic Church of the\n           force of this teaching, and of the necessary prominence\n           of Sacraments                                            420-421\n\n   IV. The correspondence between the ministry of Sacraments and\n       the complex nature of man appears in three ways: since:--\n\n       (1) The dignity and the spiritual capacity of the material\n           order is thus vindicated and maintained: so that unreal\n           and negative spirituality is precluded, and provision\n           is made for the hallowing of stage after stage in a\n           human life                                               422-426\n\n       (2) The claim of Christianity to penetrate the bodily life\n           is kept in its due prominence by the very nature of\n           Sacraments: the redemption of the body is foreshown; and\n           perhaps begun                                            426-429\n\n       (3) The evidences of mystery in human nature, its moments\n           of unearthliness, its immortal longings, its impatience\n           of finite satisfaction, being recognised and accounted\n           for by the doctrine of Grace are met by Sacraments: and\n           led in an ordered progress towards a perfect end         429-433\n\n\nXI.\n\nCHRISTIANITY AND POLITICS.\n\n   INTRODUCTORY.--The twofold problem of Christianity in its\n   relation to human society--\n\n   (1) To consecrate; (2) to purify                                 437-440\n\n    I. The Church is _neutral_ as to natural differences, e.g.\n       the form of government, autocratic or democratic leaning     440-442\n\n   II. The Church _supplements_ the moral influence of the\n       State, in respect of--\n\n       (1) The appeal to higher motives                             443-445\n           e.g. as to the duties of--\n\n           (_a_) Governors and governed                             446-451\n\n           (_b_) Owners of property                                 451-452\n\n       (2) The support of the weak against the strong               452-455\n\n       (3) The maintenance of religion                              455-461\n\n  III. The Church _purifies_ the whole social life of mankind--\n\n       (1) By spreading Christian ideas                             461-462\n\n       (2) By maintaining the Christian type of character           462-463\n\n   CONCLUSION.--The Church appeals to deeper needs than the\n   State and is therefore fundamentally Catholic, and only\n   incidentally national                                            463-464\n\n\nXII.\n\nCHRISTIAN ETHICS.\n\n   General characteristics of the Christian ethical system          467-468\n\n   Dogmatic postulates:--\n\n        (1) Doctrine of God: God a Personal and Ethical Being       469-470\n\n        (2) Doctrine of Man: his ideal nature; his destiny as\n            related to the good through conscience and freedom;\n            his present condition                                   470-476\n\n        (3) Doctrine of Christ: Catholic view of His Person         476\n\n    I. Christ's revelation of the Highest Good                      476-480\n\n            The Kingdom of God: twofold meaning of the term         477-479\n\n            Christian view of the world                             479-480\n\n   II. The Moral Law; its authority, sanctions, and content         480-489\n\n            The basis of obligation found in the idea of personal\n            relationship between God and Man                        480-482\n\n            The sanctions, and motives of Christian Morality        482-484\n\n            The Law of Duty embraced in the decalogue               484-489\n\n  III. Christ the pattern of character                              489-504\n\n            Conditions required in the perfect example              490-491\n\n            Christ the pattern of filial dependence, obedience,\n            and love                                                491-494\n\n            Virtuous action seen to imply a harmony of the\n            different elements in personality, postulating a\n            threefold virtuous principle supernaturally imparted    494-496\n\n       Christian character: the Christian personality in its\n       relation:--\n\n            (1) To God--Christian Wisdom                            497-498\n\n            (2) To Man--Christian Justice                           498-501\n\n            (3) To Self--Christian Temperance                       501-502\n\n            (4) To the hindrances of environment--Christian\n                Fortitude                                           502-503\n\n   IV. Christ the source of the recreation of character             504-512\n\n            Claim of Christianity to recreate character             504-505\n\n            Dogmatic truths implied in the recreative process       505-506\n\n            Holiness dependent on a permanent relation to Christ        506\n\n            The Church a school of character, and sphere of\n            individual discipline                                   506-508\n\n            Christian ascetics--their ground in reason, and effect\n            on character                                            509-512\n\n    V. The consummation of God's kingdom                            512-518\n\n            The intermediate stage                                      513\n\n            The final stage of glory:\n\n            (i) The kingdom to be finally manifested                513-514\n\n            (ii) and purified through judgment                          514\n\n       Extent and limits of the final triumph of good               514-516\n\n       Perfection of human personality: the perfect state one of\n\n                harmony                                             516-517\n\n                glory                                                   517\n\n                blessedness                                             517\n\n                and fellowship in a moral community                     517\n\n   VI. Conclusion: relation of Christian Ethics to the products of\n       civilization, to individual character, to social life        518-520\n\n   APPENDIX I. ON SOME ASPECTS OF CHRISTIAN DUTY                    521-525\n\n   APPENDIX II. ON THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF SIN                    526-538\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\n_FAITH._\n\nHENRY SCOTT HOLLAND.\n\n\nI. In proposing to consider the origin and growth of faith, we have a\npractical, and not a merely theoretical, aim. We are thinking of the\nactual problems which are, at this moment, encompassing and hindering\nfaith: and it is because of their urgency and their pressure, that we\nfind it worth while to go back upon our earliest beginnings, in order\nto ask what Faith itself means. For only through an examination of its\nnature, its origin, and its structure, will it be possible for us to\nsift the questions which beset us, and to distinguish those to which\nFaith is bound to give an answer from those which it can afford to let\nalone.\n\nWe set out then on our quest, in the mind of those who have felt the\ntrouble that is in the air. Even if we ourselves be not of their\nnumber, yet we all suffer from their hesitation: we all feel the\nimparted chill of their anxieties. For we are of one family: and the\nsickness, or depression of some, must affect the whole body. All of\nus, even the most confident, are interested in the case of those who\nare fearing for themselves, as they sadly search their own hearts, and\nask, 'What is it to believe? Do I know what it is to believe? Have I,\nor have I not, that which can be called \"faith\"? How can I be sure?\nWhat can I say of myself?' Such questions as these are haunting and\nharassing many among us who find themselves facing the Catholic Creed,\nwith its ring of undaunted assurance, with its unhesitating claim to\nunique and universal supremacy, and contrast with this their own faint\nand tentative apprehension of the strong truths, which are so\nconfidently asserted. Such men and women are anxious and eager to\nnumber themselves among those that believe: but can they call this\ntemper 'belief,' which is so far below the level of the genuine\nresponse which those Creeds obviously expect? Where is the blitheness\nof faith? Where is its unshaken conviction? Where is its invincible\nsimplicity? Why is it that they only succeed in moving forward with\nsuch painful indecision?\n\nNow, it is to this temper that this essay is addressed. It does not\naim at convicting a hostile disbelief, but at succouring a distressed\nfaith. And this it does under the conviction that, in so doing, it is\nresponding to the peculiar character and needs of the situation.\n\nFor the urgency, the peril of the hour, lies, not so much in the\nnovelty, or force, of the pressure that is brought to bear against\nfaith, as in the behaviour of faith itself under the pressure. What\nhas happened is, not that faith has been confounded, but that it has\nbeen challenged. It has been challenged by new social needs, by\nstrange developments of civilisation, by hungers that it had not yet\ntaken into account, by thirsts that it had not prepared itself to\nsatisfy. It has been challenged by new scientific methods, wholly\nunlike its familiar intellectual equipment; by new worlds of facts\nopened to its astonishment through discoveries which have changed the\nentire look of the earth; by immense masses of novel material, which\nit has been suddenly and violently required to assimilate; by strange\nfashions of speech in science and history; by a babel of 'unknown\ntongues' in all departments of learning and literature.\n\nFaith is under the pressure of this challenge: and the primary\nquestion is, how will it behave? What is it going to say, or do, in\nface of this exciting transformation which has passed over the entire\nsurface of our intellectual scenery? How will it deal with the\nsituation? Will it prove itself adequate to the crisis? To what extent\ncan it afford to submit to the transforming process which has already\noperated upon the mind and the imagination? If it submit, can it\nsurvive? And in what condition? with what loss, or damage, or change?\nOn every side these challenges reach it; they beat at its doors; they\narrive in pelting haste; they clamour for immediate solutions.\n\nNow faith, under these rapid and stormy challenges, is apt to fall\ninto panic. For this, surely, is the very meaning of a panic--a fear\nthat feeds upon itself. Men in a panic are frightened at finding\nthemselves afraid. So now with faith; it is terrified at its own\nalarm. How is it (it asks itself) that it should find itself baffled\nand timorous? If faith were faith, would it ever lose its confidence?\nTo be frightened is to confess itself false: for faith is confidence\nin God, Who can never fail. How can faith allow of doubt or\nhesitation? Surely for faith to hesitate, to be confused, is to deny\nits very nature. Thus many anxious and perplexed souls retreat before\ntheir own perplexities. Because their faith is troubled, they distrust\nand abandon their faith. The very fact that it is in distress becomes\nan argument against it.\n\nIt is at this point, and because of this particular peril that we are\nurgently required to consider very seriously the nature and conditions\nof faith. For our panic arises from our assumption that faith is of\nsuch a nature, that the perplexity, into which, now and again, we find\nourselves thrown, must be impossible to it, must be incompatible with\nit. Now, is this so? Ought we to expect of faith that its confidence\nshould never fail it--that its light should be always decisive? Is\nfaith incriminated by the mere fact that it is in difficulties?\n\nLet us, first, consider what has occurred. Perhaps the situation\nitself, if we quietly review it, will give a reason why it is that,\njust at the moment when we most need vigour and assurance, we should\nfind ourselves stripped of all that tends to reassure.\n\nFor the peculiarity of the disturbance which we have got to encounter\nlies in this, that it has removed from us the very weapons by which we\nmight hope to encounter it. Faith's evidential material is all\ncorroborative and accumulative; it draws it from out of an external\nworld, which can never wholly justify, or account for the internal\nreality, yet which can so group itself, that from a hundred differing\nlines, it offers indirect and parenthetic and convergent witness of\nthat which is, itself, beyond the reach of external proof. It is this\ngradual grouping of an outer life into that assorted perspective in\nwhich it offers the most effective corroboration of the inner truth,\nwhich faith slowly accomplishes upon the matter which human science\npresents to it. When once the grouping is achieved, so that the outer\nworld, known under certain scientific principles, tallies harmoniously\nwith its inner convictions, faith feels secure. The external life\noffers it pictures, analogies, metaphors--all echoing and repeating\nthe internal world. Faith beholds itself mirrored: and, so echoed, so\nmirrored, it feels itself in possession of corroborating evidences.\nBut the present scientific confusion seems to have shattered the\nmirror--to have broken up the perspective--to have dissolved the\nwell-known groupings. It is true, as some of the essays which follow\nwill try to show, that the convulsion of which we speak, lies,\nchiefly, in a change of position, or of level; so that great masses of\nthe matter, now thrown into confusion, will be found to compose\nthemselves afresh, under the newer conditions of review, and will\nappear again as part and parcel of the scientific scenery. It is a\nchange of perspective more than anything else. But, no doubt, such a\nchange is just of the character to upset us, to disturb us; for,\nduring the change, while shifting from the old position to the new, we\nare in the very chaos of confusion; everything seems, for the moment,\nto be tumbling about around us: the entire scene grows unsteady;\nthough, indeed, when once we have got our feet firmly placed at the\nnew level of vantage, much, that once was familiar, is discovered to\nbe back again in its place, looking much the same as of old. It is the\n_first_ shock of this enforced transition which is so calculated to\nterrify: as when, for instance, men see their habitual reliance on the\nevidence for design in nature, which had been inherited from Paley,\nyield, and vanish, under the review of the facts with which the theory\nof evolution acquaints them. What they feel is, that their familiar\nmode of interpreting their faith, of justifying it, of picturing it,\nhas abruptly been torn from them. That which once seemed to evidence\nit in the outer world, has ceased to be accepted or trusted. The\nhabitual ways of argument, the accepted assumptions, which they had\nhitherto used as their supports and their instruments--have been\nwithdrawn--have become obsolete. Faith is thrown back on itself, on\nits own inherent, naked vitality; it is robbed for the moment of that\nsense of solidity and security, which fortifies and refreshes it, when\nthe outer world of natural facts, and the inner world of intellect and\nfancy, all corroborate its confidence in itself, by harmonious\nattestations of its validity. The old world of things had been brought\ninto this adaptation with the principles of belief. Faith was at home\nin it, and looked out over it with cheerfulness, and moved about it\nwith freedom. But that old world is gone; and the new still lies\nuntested, unsorted, unverified, unassimilated, unhandled. It looks\nforeign, odd, remote. Faith finds no obvious corroborations in it:\nthere, where it used to feel buttressed and warm, it now feels chilly\nand exposed[53].\n\nThis is the first consequence, and it is serious enough in itself to\nprovoke alarm. Faith cannot be at ease or confident, until the outer\nworld responds to its own convictions; and yet ease and confidence are\nexactly what it is challenged to exhibit.\n\nAnd then, when a man, under this sense of fear, deprived of external\ntestimonies, attempts to exhibit, to evoke, to examine, his inner\nconviction, in its inherent and vital character, as it is in itself,\nunsupported by adventitious aids, he is astonished at his own\ndifficulty in discovering or disclosing it. Where is it all fled--that\nwhich he had called his faith? He had enjoyed it, had relied on it,\nhad again and again asserted it in word and deed: and now, when he\nwants to look at it, when he is summoned to produce it, when he is\nchallenged to declare its form and fashion; he finds himself dazed,\nbewildered, searching helplessly for that which ever escapes him,\ngrasping at a fleeting shadow, which baffles his efforts to endow it\nwith fixity and substance. And, so finding, he grows yet more\ndesperately alarmed: it seems to him that he has been self-deceived,\nbetrayed, abandoned. He is bitterly sensitive to the sharp contrast\nbetween the triumphant solidity with which scientific facts bear down\nupon him, certified, undeniable, substantial, and the vague, shifty,\nindistinct phantom, into which his conviction vanishes as soon as he\nattempts to observe it in itself, or draw it out for public\ninspection.\n\nYet, if we consider what faith signifies, we shall see at once that\nthis contrast ought to carry with it no alarm. It is a contrast which\nfollows on the very nature of faith. If we had understood its nature,\nwe could never have expected it to disclose itself under the same\nconditions as those which govern the observation of scientific facts.\nFaith is an elemental energy of the soul, and the surprise that we are\nundergoing at not being able to bring it under direct observation, is\nonly an echo of the familiar shock with which we learn that science\nhas ransacked the entire bodily fabric of man, and has nowhere come\nacross his soul; or has searched the heavens through and through with\nits telescope, and has seen no God. We are upset for a moment when\nfirst we hear this; and then, we recover ourselves as we recollect\nthat, if God be what we believe Him to be, immaterial and spiritual,\nthen He would cease to be Himself, if He were visible through a\ntelescope: and that if the spirit of man be what we believe it to be,\nthat is the very reason why no surgeon's knife can ever arrive at it.\n\nAnd, as with the soul, so with all its inherent and essential acts.\nThey are what it is: they can no more be visible than it can. How can\nany of the basal intuitions, on which our knowledge rests, present\nthemselves to our inspection in the guise of external and phenomenal\nfacts? That which observes can never, strictly speaking, observe\nitself. It can never look on at itself from outside, or view itself as\none among the multitude of things that come under its review. How can\nit? It is itself the organ of vision: and the eye cannot see its own\npower of seeing. This is why natural science, which is an organised\nsystem of observation, finds that its own observing mind is absolutely\nand totally outside its ken. It can take stock of the physiological\ncondition of thoughts or of feelings; but they themselves, in their\nactual reality, are all rigidly shut out from the entire area of\nscientific research. Wherever they begin, it ends; its methods\nabruptly fail. It possesses no instrument by which to make good its\nadvance further. For the only instrument which it knows how to use,\nand by which alone it can search, and examine, is itself the object\nwhich it desires to submit to examination. But if _it_ is to be\nexamined, who, and what, is to conduct the examination? The observing\nmind that turns round to explore itself, carries itself round as it\nturns. It can never say--'Let me look at myself, as if I were a\nphenomenon, as a fact presented to my own consciousness,' for it\nitself would be engaged in the act of looking: it itself is the\nconsciousness to which it proposes to present itself[54]. So again,\nthe thought itself can never hope, by rigid analysing, to arrive at\nlast at itself, as the final residue of the analysis, for it is\nitself, all along, employed as analyst. The process of analysis is,\nitself, the real disclosure of what thought is: and this disclosure is\nmade just as effectively even though the result of the analysis be to\ndeclare that it can discover nothing that corresponds to thought. It\nis, indeed, impossible that anything should so correspond, except the\npower to analyse; but this power _is_ thought: and every act of the\nanalysis, which issues in the sceptical conclusion, has verified the\nreal existence of thought. It is the same with all profound spiritual\nacts. None of them can ever be offered to public inspection: they can\nnever be handed across to another, for him to look at. For they are\nliving acts, and not external results. How can an act of will, or of\nlove, be submitted to observation? Its outward result is there to be\nexamined; but it, itself, is incapable of transportation. If anyone\nwere to ask 'What is it you mean by thinking, or loving, or willing?'\nwho could tell him? It would be obviously impossible to explain,\nexcept to a being who could think, will, and love. You could give him\nillustrations of what you mean--signs--instances--evidences; but they\ncan only be intelligible, as evidences, to one who already possesses\nthe faculties. No one can do a piece of thinking for another, and hand\nit over to him in a parcel. Only by thinking, can it be known what\nthought is: only by feeling can it be understood what is meant by a\nfeeling: only by seeing, willing, loving, can we have the least\nconception of sight, or of will, or of love.\n\nAnd faith stands with these primary intuitions. It is deeper and more\nelemental than them all: and, therefore, still less than they can it\nadmit of translation into other conditions than its own;--can still\nless submit itself to public observation. It can never be looked at\nfrom without. It can be known only from within itself. Belief is only\nintelligible by believing. Just as a man who is asked to say what love\nis, apart from all its outward manifestations and results, must be\ndriven back on the iteration--'Love is--what love is: everyone who\nloves, knows; no one who does not love, can ever know;' just as a man,\nwho is challenged to describe and define his feelings or his desires,\nwhen stripped of all the outward evidences that they can possibly give\nof themselves, is thrown into inarticulate bewilderment, and can give\nno intelligible answer, and can fashion to himself no distinct feature\nor character, and can only assert, confusedly, that he feels what he\nfeels, and that to desire is to desire;--so with faith. The scientific\nconvulsion has shaken and confused its normal modes of self-interpretation,\nits usual evidences, signs, illustrations: these outer aids at\ndefinition, by metaphor or by corroboration, are all brought under dim\neclipse for the moment: their relative values have been thrown into\nuncertainty: they are undergoing temporary displacement, and no one is\nquite sure which is being shifted, and which can be trusted to stand\nfirm. Faith, robbed of its habitual aids to expression, is summoned to\nshow itself on the field, in its own inner character. And this is just\nwhat it never can or may do. It can only reiterate, in response to the\ndemand for definition, 'Faith is faith.' 'Believing is--just\nbelieving.' Why, then, let ourselves be distressed, or bewildered, by\nfinding ourselves reduced to this impotence of explanation? Far from\nit being an incrimination of our faith, to find ourselves caught in\nsuch a difficulty of utterance, it is just what must happen if faith\nbe a profound and radical act of the inner soul. It is, essentially,\nan active principle, a source of energy, a spring of movement: and, as\nsuch, its verification can never take place through passive\nintrospection. It verifies itself only in actions: its reality can\nonly be made evident through experience of its living work.\n\n\nII. We may, then, free ourselves from the sinister suspicions which\nbelong to panic. It is not the superficiality of our faith, which is\nthe secret of our bewilderment, but its depth. The deepest and most\nradical elements of our being are, necessarily, the hardest to\nunearth. They are, obviously, the most remote from the surface of our\nlives: they are the rarest to show themselves in the open daylight:\nthey require the severest effort to disentangle their identity: they\nlie below all ordinary methods of utterance and expression; they can\nonly be discovered through careful recognition of the secret\nassumptions which are involved in the acts and words which they\nhabitually produce. By these acts and words their existence and their\nforce is suggested, but not exhausted--manifested, but not accounted\nfor. These form our only positive interpretation and evidence: and\nsuch evidence must, therefore, always remain inadequate, imperfect; we\nhave always and inevitably to go behind it, and beyond it, in order to\nreach and touch the motive-energy which is disclosed to us through it.\nNo wonder that we find this far from an easy matter. No wonder that,\nunder the pressure of a hostile challenge, we often lose ourselves in\na confused babble, as we struggle to make plain to others, or even to\nourselves, these innermost convictions of our souls.\n\nIndeed, such things can never be made plain: no one ought to expect\nthat they should. For, if we think of it, the primary acts of spirit\nmust be the _last_ things that can ever be made plain; for the entire\nlife issuing from them is their only interpretation, so that only when\nthat life is closed, can their interpretation be complete. And here,\nin faith, we are at the root of a life which, as we believe, it will\ntake eternity to fulfil. And, if so, only in and through eternity can\nits full evidence for itself be produced, or its right interpretation\nbe yielded.\n\nSurely, this truth clears us from many clamorous demands, which ask of\nus an impossible verification. For if once we saw that we were\nemployed in verifying the nature of that which, if it be real, can,\nconfessedly, present us, on this side of the grave, only with the most\nfragmentary evidence of its character, we should put lightly aside the\ntaunting challenge to produce such proof of our motive principle as\nwill stand comparison with the adequate and precise evidences of a\nscientific fact, or which will submit to the rigid tests of a legal\nexamination. If faith be faith, it could not, for that very reason,\nfulfil the conditions so proposed to it. These legal and scientific\nconditions are laboriously and artificially limited to testing the\npresence of a motive, or a force, which must be assumed to exist under\nfixed, precise, complete conditions, here and now. They pre-suppose\nthat, for all practical purposes, its quantity cannot vary, or\nfluctuate. If it be present at all, it is present in a distinct and\nformal manner, open to definite measurement, expressing itself in\nunalterable characteristics. The entire consideration of its activity\nis strictly confined to the normal horizon of the actual world of\npresent existence. These assumptions are the first necessity of all\nforms of science, without making which, it could not even begin. They\nare the conditions of all its success. But they are also its\nlimitations: and as such, they most certainly exclude from their\nsurvey, anything that professes to exist after the manner of faith.\nFor what is faith? It is no steady force, existing under certified and\nunvarying conditions which receive their final determination in the\nworld about us. Faith is, while it is here on earth, only a tentative\nprobation: it is a struggling and fluctuating effort in man to win for\nhimself a valid hold upon things that exist under the conditions of\neternity. In faith, we watch the early and rude beginnings, amid an\nenvironment that but faintly and doubtfully responds to it, of a power\nstill in the womb--still unborn into its true sphere--still enveloped\nin dark wrappings which encumber and impede. We see here but its\nblind, uncertain pushings, its hesitating moves, now forward, now\nback, now strangely vigorous and assertive, and then again, as\nstrangely weak and retreating. Its significance, its interpretation,\nits future possibilities, its secret of development--all these lie\nelsewhere, beyond death, beyond vision: we can but dimly guess, from\nits action here, what powers feed it, on what resources it can rely,\nwhat capacity of growth is open to it, what final issue determines the\nmeasure and value of its efforts and achievements here. Such a force\nas this is bound to upset all our ablest calculations. We can never\nlay down rules to govern and predict its capabilities. It will\ndisappoint every conceivable test that we can devise for fixing its\nconditions. It will laugh at our attempts to circumscribe its action.\nWhere we look for it to be weak, it will suddenly show itself strong:\nwhen we are convinced that we may expect a vigorous display of its\ncapacities, it will mysteriously lapse. All this may terribly\ndisconcert us. It may tempt us into angry declarations that such an\nincalculable existence is unworthy of scientific attention--is\nfanciful, is unreal. But the only lesson which we ought to learn is\nthat methods adapted for one state of things are bound to prove\nthemselves futile when applied to another. If we are employed in\nobserving a life, which has its ground and its end in a world beyond\nthe present, then all methods framed for the express and definite\npurpose of examining life as it exists here and now, will necessarily\nprove themselves ludicrously inapt. The futility, the barrenness, the\nineptitude of our researches, lies, not with the faith against which\nwe level our irritable complaints, but with the methods which, by\ntheir very terms of definition, proclaim themselves to be misplaced.\n\nWhere, then, must we dig to unearth the roots of faith? What are the\nconditions of its rise and exercise? Wherein lie its grounds, and the\njustification of its claim?\n\nFaith grounds itself, solely and wholly, on an inner and vital\nrelation of the soul to its source. This source is most certainly\nelsewhere; it is not within the compass of the soul's own activity. In\nsome mode, inconceivable and mysterious, our life issues out of an\nimpenetrable background: and as our life includes spiritual elements,\nthat background has spiritual factors: and as our life is personal,\nwithin that background exists personality. This supply of life in\nwhich we begin, from out of which our being opens, can never cease, so\nlong as we exist, to sustain us by one continuous act. Ever its\nresources flow in: ever its vital support is unwithdrawn. In some\nfashion or other, we all know that this must be so: and the Christian\nCreed only lifts into clear daylight, and endows with perfect\nexpression, this elementary and universal verity, when it asserts that\nat the very core of each man's being lies, and lives, and moves, and\nworks, the creative energy of the Divine Will--'the Will of our Father\nWhich is in Heaven.'\n\nWe stand, by the necessities of our existence, in the relationship of\nsons to a Father, Who has poured out into us, and still pours, the\nvigour of His own life. This is the one basis of all faith. Unless\nthis relationship actually exists, there could be no faith: if it\nexists, then faith is its essential corollary: it is bound to appear.\nOur faith is simply the witness to this inner bond of being. That\nbond, which is the secret of our entire existence, accounting for all\nthat we are, or do, or feel, or think, or say, must become capable of\nrecognition by a being that is, in any sense, free, intelligent,\nconscious: and this recognition by us of the source from whence we\nderive, is what we mean by faith. Faith is the sense in us that we are\nAnother's creature, Another's making. Even as we not only feel, but\nfeel that we feel; not only think, but know that we think; not only\nchoose, but determine to choose: so, below and within all our willing,\nand thinking, and feeling, we are conscious of Another, whose mind and\nwill alone make possible both the feeling that we feel, and also the\ncapacity to feel it; both the thought that we think, and also the\ncapacity to know it; both the will that we put forth, as well as the\npower to determine it. Every act, every desire, every motive of ours,\nis dependant on the source out of sight: we hang on Another's will; we\nare alive in Another's life. All our life is a discovery, a\ndisclosure, of this secret. We find it out only by living. As we put\nout powers that seem to be our own, still even in and by the very act\nof putting them out, we reveal them to be not our own; we discover\nthat we are always drawing on unseen resources. We are sons: that is\nthe root-law of our entire self. And faith is the active instinct of\nthat inner sonship: it is the point at which that essential sonship\nemerges into consciousness; it is the disclosure to the self of its\nown vital secret; it is the thrill of our inherent childhood, as it\nmakes itself felt within the central recesses of the life; it is the\nflame that shoots into consciousness at the recognition of the touch\nof our divine fatherhood; it is the immediate response of the sonship\nin us to its discovered origin.\n\nFaith, then, is an instinct of relationship based on an inner actual\nfact. And its entire office and use lies in realising the secret fact.\nFor the bond is spiritual; and it can only realise itself in a spirit\nthat has become aware of its own laws. No blind animal acceptance of\nthe divine assistance can draw out the powers of this sonship. The\nreception of the assistance must itself be conscious, loving,\nintelligent, willing. The natural world can receive its full\ncapacities from God without recognition of the source whence they flow\nin: but this absence of living recognition forbids it ever to surpass\nthose fixed limits of development which we name 'natural.' But a\ncreature of God that could not only receive but recognise that it\nreceived, would, by that very recognition, lay itself open to an\nentirely novel development; it would be susceptible of infinitely\nhigher influences shed down upon it from God; it would admit far finer\nand richer inpourings of divine succours; it would be fed, not only\nfrom underground channels as it were, but by fresh inlets which its\nconsciousness of its adherence in God would uncover and set in motion.\nThe action of God upon His creatures would be raised to a new level of\npossibility: for a living and intelligent will has capacities of\nreceptivity, which were altogether excluded so long as God merely\ngave, and the creature blindly and dumbly took. Faith, then, opens an\nentirely new career for creaturely existence; and the novelty of this\ncareer is expressed in the word 'supernatural.' The 'supernatural'\nworld opens upon us as soon as faith is in being[55].\n\nAnd this career, it will be seen, is markedly distinct from the\nnatural in this--that it is capable of ever advancing expansion. All\nnatural things, which blindly accept their life from God, must,\nperforce, have a decreed and certified development, limited by the\nconditions in which they are found existing. Their receptivity is a\nfixed quantity, determined by the character imposed upon them at\ncreation, and bound to come to an abrupt arrest at some precise\npoint[56]. But receptivity through conscious recognition is open to a\ndevelopment of which it is impossible for us to fix the limits. For\nthis living recognition itself advances in its capacity to see and\nunderstand. Every act by which it recognises the Giver in the gifts,\nheightens and intensifies its power to recognise Him; and every\nincrease of its power to recognise Him increases also its capacity to\nreceive; and this increase will again react on the faculties of\nrecognition. A vision opens out of spiritual growth, in which every\nstep forward made through incoming grace, makes a new step possible,\nfinds a fresh grace ever waiting to crown its latest gift with ever\nnew endowment. The sonship that is at work underground in man, below\nthe level of consciousness, at the hidden base of faith, is one that\nholds in it capacities which can only be evoked under the appeals of a\nliving and voluntary faith. Faith is the discovery of an inherent\nsonship, which, though already sealed to it, already in action,\nnevertheless cannot but withhold its more rich and splendid energies\nuntil this discovery is made; and which discloses them only according\nto the progressive clearness and force with which the process of\ndiscovery advances. The history of faith is the history of this\ngradual disclosure, this growing capacity to recognise and receive,\nuntil the rudimentary omen of God's fatherhood in the rudest savage\nwho draws, by clumsy fetich, or weird incantation, upon a power\noutside himself, closes its long story in the absolute recognition,\nthe perfect and entire receptivity, of that Son of man, who can do\nnothing of Himself, 'but what He seeth the Father do,' and, for that\nvery reason, can do everything: for whatsoever 'the Father doeth, the\nSon doeth also.'\n\nFaith, then, is not only the recognition by man of the secret source\nof his being, but it is itself, also, the condition under which the\npowers, that issue from that source, make their arrival within him.\nThe sonship, already germinal, completes itself, realises itself in\nman, through his faith. Not only is the unconscious human nature held\nby attachment to the Father who feeds it with hidden succours, but\nfaith is, itself, the power by which the conscious life attaches\nitself to God; it is an apprehensive motion of the living spirit, by\nwhich it intensifies its touch on God; it is an instinct of surrender,\nby which it gives itself to the fuller handling of God: it is an\naffection of the will, by which it presses up against God, and drinks\nin divine vitality with quickened receptivity[57].\n\nWhat then will be its characteristics? We have only to keep close to\nthe conception of sonship, and we shall understand them well enough.\nFaith is the attitude, the temper, of a son towards a father. That is\na relationship that we all can understand for ourselves. We know it,\nin spite of all the base and cruel corruptions under which, in the\nhomes of man, its beauty lies disfigured. Still, beneath disguises, we\ncatch sight, in rare and happy conditions, of that beautiful intimacy\nwhich can spring up between a son and a father, where love is one with\nreverence, and duty fulfils itself in joy. Such a sonship is like a\nspiritual instinct, which renders intelligible to the son every mood\nand gesture of the father. His very blood moves in rhythm to the\nfather's motives. His soul hangs, for guidance, on the father's eyes:\nto him, each motive of the father justifies itself as a satisfying\ninspiration. The father's will is felt deliciously encompassing him\nabout; enclosed within it, his own will works, glad and free in its\nfortifying obedience. Such a relationship as this needs no justifying\nsanction beyond itself: it is its own sanction, its own authority, its\nown justification. 'He is my father': that is a sufficient reason for\nall this sympathetic response to another's desire. 'I am his son':\nthat is the final premiss in which all argument comes to a close. The\nwilling surrender of the heart is the witness to a _fact_ which is\nbeyond argument, which accepts no denial, yet which is no tyrannous\nfate, but is a living and animating bond of blood, which it is a joy\nto recognise, and an inspiration to confess.\n\nIt is in such a spirit of sonship that faith reveals and realises\nitself. Faith is that temper of sympathetic and immediate response to\nAnother's will which belongs to a recognised relationship of vital\ncommunion. It is the spirit of confident surrender, which can only be\njustified by an inner identification of life. Its primary note,\ntherefore, will be _trust_--that trust of Another, which needs no\nulterior grounds on which to base itself, beyond what is involved in\nthe inherent law of this life. Faith will ever discover, when its\nreason for action, or belief, are traced to their last source, that it\narrives at a point where its only and all-sufficient plea will be 'God\nis my Father: I am His child.' That relationship is its root; on the\ntop of that relationship faith works; as a witness to that\nrelationship, it puts forth all the spiritual temper which, of\nnecessity, follows on this intimacy of contact.\n\nAnd, here, we find ourselves in the presence of the law by which faith\nclaims to be _universal_. Unless this inner relationship be a fact,\nfaith could not account for itself: but if it be a fact, it must\nconstitute a fixed and necessary demand upon all men. All are,\nequally, 'children of God': and the answer to the question 'Why should\nI believe?' must be, for ever and for all, valid; 'because you are a\nchild of God.' Faith is nothing but the spiritual temper and attitude,\nwhich belong, inherently, to such a fact. No one can escape from such\na claim: for his existence constitutes the claim. If he be a child, it\nmust be demanded, of him, that he should display the characteristics\nof his childhood: the father must, of necessity, be concerned with the\nquestion of his own recognition by his son. Our manhood lies in this\nessential sonship: and, if so, then to be without faith, without the\nconscious realisation of the sonship, is to be without the fulness of\na man's proper nature. It is to be inhuman: to be curtailed of the\nnatural development: to be maimed and thwarted. It means that the\nvital outcome of the inner verity has been arrested; that the\nsensitive perceptions have been blunted and stunted; that the sonship\nin us has, somehow, lost touch with its true fatherhood.\n\nWe learn at once, as we consider this, the interpretation of that\ntwo-sided character, which surprises us in God's dealings with\nmen:--i.e. the imperative rigour of His stated requirements, coupled\nwith His wide and patient tolerance, in actual fact.\n\nAs a Father of all, He cannot, conceivably, be satisfied with anything\nshort of complete recognition by His children. He must look for faith;\nHe must require it of them all: He must leave no means untried by\nwhich to secure it: He must seek to win it at all costs: His love is\ninevitably and cruelly hindered, unless He can obtain it: and when He\nobtains it, He must passionately desire to establish, evoke, develope,\nperfect it: for each rise in faith is a rise in capacities of\nintercourse, of intimacy, between Father and son. We see how strenuous\nand zealous will be His efforts to build up faith in men: we\nunderstand how urgent, and pressing, and alarming will become His\nentreaties, His warnings, His menaces, His appeals, if faith is\nallowed to slide or fail. Loss of faith means a shattered home, a\nruptured intimacy, a sundered love; it means that a Father must look\non while the very nature He has made in His image shrivels and\nshrinks, and all hope of growth, of advancing familiarity, of\nincreasing joy, of assured sympathy, is cut down and blighted. We all\nknow the bitterness of a breach which scatters a family into\nfragments: and that is but a faint shadow of all which the great\nFather sees to be involved in the broken contact between Himself and\nHis son. What standard have we by which to sound the abyss of divine\ndisappointment, as God waits ready with gift upon gift of endless\ngrace which He will pour out upon the child of His love, as the\nendless years open out new wonders of advancing intimacy; and lo! the\nchannel by which alone the gifts can reach him, is choked and closed?\nFaith is the son's receptivity: it is that temper of trust, which\nmakes the entry of succours possible: it is the medium of response: it\nis the attitude of adherence to the Father, by virtue of which\ncommunications can pass. If faith goes, all further action of God upon\nthe soul, all fresh arrival of power, is made impossible. The channel\nof intercourse is blocked.\n\nThe demand, then, for faith by God is bound to be exacting, and\nurgent, and universal. But, then, this demand holds in reserve a\nground of hope, of patience, of tolerance, of charity, which we can,\nin no single instance, venture to limit. For the faith, which it\nrigorously asks for, reposes, as we see, on an inner and essential\nrelationship, already existent, which knits man to his God. Not even\nthe Fall, with all its consequent accumulations of sin, can avail to\nwholly undo this primitive condition of existence. The fatherhood of\nGod still sustains its erring children; the divine image is blurred,\nbut not blotted out. Still, at the close of the long days, our Lord\ncan speak to the wondering men who flock about Him, of One Who is even\nnow their Father in Heaven. This objective and imperishable\nrelationship, the underlying ground of all our being, is the\npre-supposition of all faith, without which it would itself be\nimpossible. And, this being so, God can afford to wait very long for\nfaith to show itself. So long as its primary condition is there, there\nis always hope. The stringent demand is not inspired by the mind of a\nlawgiver, nor pressed home with the austerity of a judge; it expresses\nthe hunger of a father's heart, to win the confidence and to evoke the\ncapacities of the children of its love. Such a hunger is, indeed, more\nrigorous and exact than the letter of any law: it aspires after a more\naccurate correspondence; it is sensitive to more delicate\ndistinctions: but, nevertheless, it holds, in its fatherliness, far\nwider capacities of toleration than lawgiver, or judge. That same\nheart of the father, which in its hunger of love is so exacting, will,\nout of the same hunger, never despair, and never forsake: it will\nnever cease from the pursuit of that responsive trust which it\ndesires; it will make allowances, it will permit delays, it will weave\nexcuses, it will endure rebuffs, it will condescend to persuasion, it\nwill forget all provocations, it will wait, it will plead, it will\nrepeat its pleas, it will take no refusal, it will overleap all\nobstacles, it will run risks, it will endlessly and untiringly\nforgive, if only, at the last, the stubborn child-heart yield, and the\ntender response of faith be won.\n\nHere, then, we seem to see why the nature of faith allows for two\npoints which surprise us in God's dealings, as if with a\ncontradiction. On the one hand, we hear Him, though prophet and\npriest, insisting, with severe precision, on the necessity of a right\nand accurate faith. On the other, we cannot but recognise, in the open\narea of actual life, the evidences of a wide and almost boundless\ntoleration. Again and again it must have seemed to us that the Church\nand the world gave, thus, antithetical evidence of God's character.\nYet, in truth, both speak the voice of one and the same God, Who, in\nHis undivided love, both passionately seeks for the delicate and\ndirect response of an accurate faith; and, also, in order not to lose\nthis final joy, 'suffereth long, and is kind, beareth all things,\nbelieveth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.'\nYes!--has even to endure that men should pit His toleration against\nHis love, and should argue that, because He will wait so long and\nquietly for the fruit that He desires to reap, therefore, He does not\ndesire the fruit. In reality, the degree of the toleration, with which\nGod will patiently wait for the fruits of faith, is the measure of the\nextremity of His desire for it. Just because He wants it so much, He\nwaits so long.\n\n\nIII. If faith, then, be the witness and the exercise of our sonship in\nGod, we can recognise at once the place it will hold among the other\npowers and capacities of our nature. We are so unfortunately apt to\nrank it as one among many faculties, and then to find ourselves\nengaged in agitating controversies concerning its limits and its\nclaims. We have to secure for it, against the rest, a field for free\ndominion; and that field is hard to define; and rival powers beset it;\nand there are raids and skirmishes on every frontier; and reason is\never making violent incursions on the one side, and feeling is\nactively besieging it on the other: and the scientific frontiers,\nwhich we are ever on the point of fixing, shift, and change, and\nvanish, as soon as we determine them; and the whole force of Christian\napologetics is spent in aimless and barren border-warfare.\n\nBut, if what we have been saying be true, the whole trouble turns on a\nmistake. Faith is not to be ranked by the side of the other faculties\nin a federation of rival powers, but is behind them all. It goes back\nto a deeper root; it springs from a more primitive and radical act of\nthe central self than they. It belongs to that original spot of our\nbeing, where it adheres in God, and draws on divine resources. Out\nfrom that spot our powers divide, radiating into separate\ngifts,--will, memory, feeling, reason, imagination, affection; but all\nof them are but varying expressions of that essential sonship, which\nis their base. And all, therefore, run back into that home where faith\nabides, and works, and rises, and expands. At the root of all our\ncapacities lies our sonship; at the root of all our conscious life\nlies faith, the witness of our sonship. By adherence in God, we put\nout our gifts, we exercise our functions, we develop our faculties;\nand faith, therefore, far from being their rival, whom they are\ninterested in suspecting, and curbing, and confining within its\nlimits, is the secret spring of their force, and the inspiration of\ntheir growth, and the assurance of their success. All our knowledge,\nfor instance, relies upon our sonship; it starts with an act of\nfaith[58]. We throw ourselves, with the confidence of children, upon\nan external world, which offers itself to our vision, to our touch, to\nour review, to our calculation, to our handling, to our use. Who can\nassure us of its reality, of its truth? We must measure it by those\nfaculties under the manipulation of which it falls: but how can the\nfaculties guarantee to us their own accuracy? How can we justify an\nextension of our own inner necessities to the world of outward things?\nHow can we attribute to nature that rational and causative existence\nwhich we find ourselves forced to assume in it? Our justification, our\nconfidence, all issue, in the last resort, from our sonship. Our\npowers have, in them, some likeness to those of God. If He be our\nFather, if we be made in His image, then, in our measure, we can rely\nupon it that we close with Nature in its reality; that our touch, our\nsight, our reason, have some hold on the actual life of things; that\nwe see and know in some such manner, after our degree, as God Himself\nsees and knows. In unhesitating reliance upon our true sonship, we\nsally out and deal with the world; we act upon the sure conviction\nthat we are not altogether outside the secret of objective existence.\nWe refuse absolutely to doubt, or go behind the reports made to us by\nfeeling, by memory, by thought. If once we are clear as to what the\nreport is, we rest on it; we ask for no power to stand (as it were)\noutside our own experience, our own knowledge, so as to assure\nourselves of their veracity. We are certain that our Father cannot\nhave misguided us; that we are within His influence; that we are in\nmodified possession of His truth; that our capacities reflect His\nmind. We could not have so confidently recognised, understood, and\nhandled the world, if it had been wholly foreign to us. As it is, we\nlay instinctive hold upon it; we take spontaneous possession; we exert\nauthority upon it; we feel our inherent right over it; we are at home\nin it; we move freely about it, as children in a father's house.\nActing in this faith, all our capacities justify themselves to us;\nthey respond to our reliance upon them; they develop into ever\nadvancing strength under the motions of this trust; they form a\ncontinual and increasing witness to the verity of that sonship in\nwhich we have believed.\n\nFaith, then, belongs to our entire body of activities. We live by\nfaith. By faith, under the inspiration of faith, we put out our life,\nwe set to work, we exercise faculties, we close with our\nopportunities, we have confidence in our environment, we respond to\ncalls, we handle critical emergencies, we send out far abroad our\nexperimental intelligence, we discover, we accumulate experiences, we\nbuild, and plant, and develop. An elemental act of faith lies at the\nroot of all this advance; and every motion that we make, demands a\nrenewal of that primitive venture. In all secular progress 'we walk by\nfaith.' Every step revives the demand. Just as the earth, if it\nnecessitates the idea of a primal creation, requires, by exactly the\nsame necessity, an incessant renewal of that first creative act, so\nour life, if it required faith to start it, requires faith every\nmoment to sustain it. Our faculties never arrive at a use which is\nself-dependent and self-originated, as if they could grow beyond the\ntentative conditions of their earliest assays. They originate in a\nventurous experiment; and, however long, and however complicated that\nexperiment become, it retains its original character; it remains\nexperimental to the end. The _results_, no doubt, justify the venture\nmade; but, then, the first venture involved such immense assumptions,\nthat no results reached can ever complete its justification, and so\nremove its tentative nature. For, by assuming a real correspondence\nbetween our faculties and the world with which they deal, it assumed\nthat such a correspondence would never fail us; would be capable of\ninfinite verification; would prove adequate to all possible\nexperiences; would receive indefinite and progressive extension. No\nverifications ever reached can, then, exhaust the faith of that\nprimitive venture; they can only serve to exhibit to it how far more\nwas contained within that venture than it could ever have conceived.\nNew knowledge, new experience, far from expunging the elements of\nfaith, make ever fresh demands upon it; they constitute perpetual\nappeals to it to enlarge its trust, to expand its original audacity.\nAnd yet the very vastness of those demands serves to obscure and\nconceal their true character. This is the key to much of our present\nbewilderment. The worlds of knowledge and of action have assumed such\nhuge proportions, have accumulated such immense and complicated\nresources, have gained such supreme confidence in their own stability,\nhave pushed forward their successes with such startling power and\nrapidity, that we have lost count of their primal assumption. In\namazement at their stupendous range, we are over-awed; we dare not\nchallenge them with their hypothetical origin, or remind them that\ntheir entire and wonderful structure is but an empty and hollow dream,\nunless they are prepared to place their uttermost trust in an\nunverified act of faith. Given that trust, which relies on the reality\nof the bond which holds between our inner faculties and the outer\nworld, then all this marvellous vision is rooted on a rock, has\nvalidity and substance. Withdraw that spiritual trust in our sonship,\nand all this fairy-world, won for us by science and experience,\n\n  These cloud-capped towers, these gorgeous palaces,\n  The solemn temples, the great globe itself,\n  Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,\n  And, like an unsubstantial pageant faded,\n  Leave not a rack behind.\n\nOur secular and scientific life is an immense experiment in faith,--an\nexperiment which verifies itself by success, but which justifies\nitself only if it remembers to attribute all its success to the\nreality of that hidden relationship to God, which is the key to all\nits capacities, the justification of all its confidence, and the\nsecurity of all its advance.\n\nSuch a remembrance is not easy for it: for the exercise of the\ncapacities is instinctive and spontaneous, and it requires an effort\nof reflection to question the validity of such exercise. And such an\neffort seems tiresome and impertinent in the heat of successful\nprogress, in the thick of crowding conquests. The practical man is apt\nto give an irritated stamp on the ground, which to him feels so solid,\nand to deem this a sufficient answer to the importunate inquiry how he\nknows that he has any substantial world to know and to handle. For\nfaith lies _behind_ our secular life, secreted within it: and the\nsecular life, therefore, can go on as if no faith was wanted; it need\nnot trouble its head with perplexing questions, whether its base be\nverifiable by the same standards and measures as its superstructure.\nIts own practical activity is complete and free, whether it discover\nits hidden principle or not: just as Mr. Jourdain's conversation was\ncomplete and free, long before he discovered that he was talking\nprose. We have to stand outside our secular life and reflect on it, to\ndisclose its true spring. The appeal to faith here is indirect.\n\nBut, in religion, this hidden activity is evoked by a direct appeal:\nit is unearthed; it is summoned to come forward on its own account.\nGod demands of this secret and innermost vitality that it should no\nlonger lie incased within the other capacities, but that it should\nthrow off its sheltering covers, and should emerge into positive\naction, and should disclose its peculiar and native character. God,\nthe Father, calls faith out of its dim background into the front of\nthe scene. He does this under the pressure of invocations, which\naddress their appeals through, and by means of, the secular and\nvisible material, within and behind which He is ever at work. This\nhad, indeed, always told of His invisible and eternal Godhead: but it\ndid so indirectly, by requiring Him as its constant pre-supposition\nand base. Now, it is so used as to bring God into direct and positive\nevidence, by means of acts, which bring forward the energies of His\nimmediate Fatherhood. All the growth of Eden had always testified to\nthe existence and the name of God: but a new stage was reached when He\nwas felt moving, in evening hours, amid the trees of the garden. And\nas the Father presses forward out of His silent background, so the\nsecret sonship in man emerges out of its deep recesses in positive\nresponse, using its own secular faculties by which to carry itself\nforward into evidence and action. This definite and direct contact\nbetween the God Who is the hidden source of all life, and the faith\nwhich is the hidden spring of all human activity--this disclosure by\nthe Father, met by this discovery by the son--this is Religion: and\nthe history of Religion is the story of its slow and gradual advance\nin sanity and clearness, until it culminates in that special\ndisclosure which we call Revelation; which, again, crowns itself in\nthat Revelation of the Father through the Son, in which the disclosure\nof God to man and the discovery by man of God are made absolute in Him\nWho is one with the Father, knowing all that the Father does, making\nknown all that the Father is.\n\nNow here we have reached a parting of ways. For we have touched the\npoint at which the distinctions start out between what is secular and\nwhat is sacred--between virtue and godliness--between the world and\nthe Church. If 'Religion' means this coming forward into the\nforeground of that which is the universal background of all existence,\nthen we cut ourselves free from the perplexity which benumbs us when\nwe hear of the 'Gospel of the Secular Life;' of the 'Religion of\nHumanity;' of doctors and scientific professors being 'Ministers of\nReligion;' of the 'Natural Religion' which is contained within the\nborders of science with its sense of wonder, or of art with its vision\nof beauty. All this is so obviously true in one sense that it sinks to\nthe level of an amiable commonplace; but if this be the sense\nintended, why is all this emphasis laid upon it? Yet if more than this\nis meant, we are caught in a juggling maze of words, and are losing\nhold on vital distinctions, and feel ourselves to be rapidly\ncollapsing into the condition of the unhappy Ninevites, who knew not\ntheir right hands from their left.\n\nThe word 'Religion,' after all, has a meaning: and we do not get\nforward by labouring to disguise from ourselves this awkward fact.\nThis positive meaning allows everything that can be asked in the way\nof sanctity and worth, for nature and the natural life. All of it is\nGod-given, God-inspired, God-directed; all of it is holy. But the\n_fact_ of this being so is one thing: the _recognition_ of it is\nanother; and it is this recognition of God in things which is the core\nand essence of religion. Natural life is the life in God, which has\nnot yet arrived at this recognition: it is not yet, as such,\nreligious. The sacred and supernatural office of man is to press\nthrough his own natural environment, to force his spirit through the\nthick jungle of his manifold activities and capacities, to shake\nhimself free from the encompassing complexities, to step out clear and\nloose from all entanglement, to find himself, through and beyond all\nhis secular experiences, face to face with a God, Who, on His side, is\nfor ever pushing aside the veil which suggests and conceals Him, for\never disengaging Himself from the phenomena through which He arrives\nat man's consciousness, for ever brushing away the confusions, and\ncoming out more and more into the open, until, through and past the\n'thunder comes a human voice;' and His eyes burn their way through\ninto man's soul; and He calls the man by his name, and takes him\napart, and hides him in some high and separate cleft of the rock, far\nfrom all the glamour and tumult of crowded existence, and holds him\nclose in the hollow of His hand as He passes by, and names to him,\nwith clear and memorable voice, the 'Name of the Lord, the Lord God,\nmerciful, gracious, long-suffering, abundant in goodness and truth,\nforgiving iniquity, and Who will by no means clear the guilty.' Here\nis Religion. It is the arrival at the secret; the discovery by the son\nof a Father, Who is in all His works, yet is distinct from them\nall,--to be recognised, known, spoken with, loved, imitated,\nworshipped, on His own account, and for Himself alone.\n\nReligion, in this sense, is perfectly distinct from what is secular:\nyet, in making this distinction, it brings no reproach: it pronounces\nnothing common or unclean. It only asks us not to play with words: and\nit reminds us that, in blurring this radical distinction, we are\nundoing all the work which it has been the aim of the religious\nmovement to achieve. For the history of this movement is the record of\nthe gradual advance man has made in disentangling 'the Name of God'\nfrom all its manifestations. Religion is the effort to arrive at that\nName, in its separable identity, in its personal and distinct\nsignificance. It is the fulfilment of the unceasing cry 'Tell me Thy\nname!' In religion we are engaged in the age-long task of lifting the\nName, clear and high, above the clang and roar of its works, that\nthrough and by means of all that He is, we may pierce through to the\nvery God of gods, and may close with Him in the blessed solitude of a\nlove which knits heart to heart and spirit to spirit, without any\nwithholding interval, with no veil to hinder or intervene.\n\nThe growth of faith, then, means the gradual increase of this personal\ncontact, this spiritual intimacy between Father and son. To achieve\nthis increasing apprehension of the Father's character and love, faith\nuses, as instruments and as channels, all its natural faculties, by\nwhich to bring itself forward into action, and through which to\nreceive the communications, which arrive at it from the heart and will\nof Him, Who, on His side, uses all natural opportunities as the\nmaterial of a speech, which is ever, as man's ear becomes sensitive\nand alert, growing more articulate, and positive, and personal.\n\nThe entire human nature,--imagination, reason, feeling,\ndesire,--becomes to faith a vehicle of intercourse, a mediating aid in\nits friendship with God. But faith itself lies deeper than all the\ncapacities of which it makes use: it is, itself, the primal act of the\nelemental self, there at the root of life, where the being is yet\nwhole and entire, a single personal individuality, unbroken and\nundivided. Faith, which is the germinal act of our love for God, is an\nact of the whole self, there where it is one, before it has parted off\ninto what we can roughly describe as separate and distinguishable\nfaculties. It therefore uses, not one or other of the faculties, but\nall; and in a sense it uses them all at once, just as any complete\nmotion of will, or of love, acts with all the united force of many\ncombined faculties. A perfect act of love would combine, into a single\nmovement, the entire sum of faculties, just because it proceeds from\nthat basal self, which is the substance and unity of them all. So with\nfaith. Faith, the act of a willing adhesion to God the Father,\nproceeds from a source deeper than the point at which faculties\ndivide.\n\nAnd this has a most vital bearing on the question of faith's\nevidences. It is here we touch on the crucial characteristic which\ndetermines all our logical and argumentative position.\n\nFor, if a movement of faith springs from a source anterior to the\ndistinct division of faculties, then no one faculty can adequately\naccount for the resultant action. Each faculty, in its separate stage,\ncan account for _one_ element, for _one_ factor, which contributed to\nthe result: and that element, that factor, may be of greater or less\nimportance, according to the rank of the faculty in the entire self.\nBut, if the movement of faith has also included and involved many\nother elements which appear, when analysed out, in the domains of the\nother faculties; then the account which each separate faculty can give\nof the whole act, can never be more than partial. Its evidence must be\nincomplete. If the central self has gathered its momentum from many\nchannels, it is obvious that the amount contributed by any one channel\nwill be unable to justify the force exerted, or to explain the event\nthat followed. If we track home each faculty employed to this central\nspring of energy, we shall see that each points to the result,\ncontributes to it, suggests it; but the result will always be more\nthan the evidence, so collected, can warrant.\n\nThis limitation, which we may allow about other faculties, is apt to\nbecome a stumbling-block when we apply it to the high gift of reason.\nReason, somehow, seems to us to rise into some supreme and independent\nthrone; it reviews the other faculties; and is, therefore, free from\ntheir limitations. We fear to hint that it has any lord over it. How\ncan we assume such a lordship without dubbing ourselves irrational\nobscurantists, who in folly try to stamp out the light?\n\nBut we are not, in reality, dreaming of limiting reason by any\nlimitations except those which it makes for itself. We are not\nviolently attempting to make reason stop short at any point, where it\ncould go on. We are only asking, is there any point at which it stops\nof itself, and cannot go further? We propose to use reason right out,\nto press it to its utmost limit, to spur it to put forth all its\npowers; and we assert that, so doing, reason will, at last, reveal its\ninability to get right to the end, to carry clear home. And why?\nBecause the self is not only rational but something more: it combines,\nwith its unbroken, central individuality, other elements besides\nreason: and therefore, of sheer necessity, whenever that central self\nputs out an elemental act in which the integral spring of personal\nenergy takes part,--such as an act of will, or love, or faith,--then,\nreason can be but one factor, but one element, however important, in\nthat issuing act: and if so, then it can give but a partial account of\nit; its own contribution can not wholly explain, or justify the\nresult. In Bishop Butler's language, the utmost that reason can do is\nto make it 'very probable.'\n\nThe real root-question in this time-worn controversy is just this: is,\nor is not, reason the most primal and elemental act of the integral\npersonality? If it is, then, of course, it regulates and determines\nall subordinate acts. Everything must finally submit to its\narbitration: for everything, if tracked back far enough, must\nterminate in an act of reason.\n\nBut if, as Christianity asserts, the ultimate and elemental self be a\nmoral will, that can believe, and love, then, though this self\ncontains in it reason, it also goes back behind reason. Reason is\nindeed one of its essential elements, but it is not its entire\nessence, for this includes within itself, that which appears as\nfeeling, and desire, and imagination, and choice, and passion, as well\nas that which shows itself as reason. When, therefore, the self puts\nout its primitive power, it will do actions which satisfy reason,\nindeed, but which reason cannot exhaustively analyse, or interpret,\nsince the entire force of reason, if it were all brought into action,\nwould still be only a partial contribution to the effect.\n\nAs a fact, we all of us are perfectly familiar with this limitation,\nin affairs of affection and friendship. We never have here that\nparalysing awe of reason, which haunts us in matters of religion. We\nnever allow ourselves to be bullied into submission to its supremacy.\nWe should laugh at it, if it attempted to dictate to us; or to account\nfor all our motives. Not that we are at war with it: or are shirking\nit: or are afraid of it. We can have affections and friendships, which\nhave every possible justification which reason can offer. Every\nconceivable expediency can unite to authorise and approve them. Every\ninterest may be served by them. They may stand every test which a cool\ncommon-sense, or a calm impartial judgment, or an acute calculation of\nconsequences can apply to them. They may be the very embodiment of\nreason. And yet, by no amount of calculated expediencies, by no\npressure of rational considerations, could we dream, for one moment,\nthat our friendship was accounted for. If ever it could trace its\norigin to these motives, it would cease to be what we thought it. The\ndiscovery would destroy it. All possible considerations and\ncalculations might have been present, and yet they would be utterly\npowerless to create in us the love. And the love, however gladly it\nmay recognise the approving considerations, would repudiate, with\namazement, and with laughter, any presumption on their part to say,\n'this is why you love.'\n\nIt is the same with all primal acts of heroism. They may be absolutely\nrational: yet, they would cease to be heroic, they would never be\ndone, if they did not call upon a force, which, indeed, may determine\nits direction by reason, but which uses quite other motives to induce\nitself to act. Utilitarianism, which attempts to account for such\nheroic momentum by purely rational considerations, finds itself\nreduced to shifts which all those can see through, who refuse to be\njuggled out of their own experiences. It is the same with all the\nhigher forms of moral energy. All of them go beyond their evidences.\nThey all lift the rational motives, which suggest and determine the\ndirection of their activity, by an impulsive force, which has in it\nthe power of initiative, of origination. Every high act of will is a\nnew creation. As the gunpowder sleeps, until the spark alights upon\nit, so the directions of reason remain below the level of action,\nuntil the jet of a living will fuses its fire with their material. The\nact which results may, indeed, be capable of complete interpretation\non reasonable grounds: it may be able to show reasons which account\nfor every fragment of it: yet, still, the living force which drew\ntogether, and combined all those separate reasons into a single\nresultant act, has a creative and original character. The series of\nreasons, however complete, cannot account for the result, for they\ncannot possibly account for their own combination: and without this\ncombination of their momentum the result would not be there.\n\nIt is well to recall briefly this character of the moral will, the\naffections, the love, of man. For these are faith's nearest and\ndearest allies. It is here, in these elemental motions, that faith\nfinds its closest parallel. It is something very like an act of will,\na movement of love, an heroic and chivalrous moral venture. And\nwhenever we desire to understand its relations to reason, we must\npersistently recall the attitude towards reason taken by these\nfundamental forms of energy; only remembering that faith is yet more\nelemental, yet more completely the act of the central integral self,\neven than these. Where they leave reason behind, it will do so yet\nfurther. Where they call upon something deeper, and more primitive\nthan reason, it will do the same, and yet more triumphantly. It is not\nthat either it or they are without reason: or that they stand outside\nreason, consulting it so far as they choose, and then dropping it; it\nis not that reason may not be found in every corner and fragment of\ntheir activity, pervading, colouring, restraining, limiting,\ndirecting, justifying it: but simply that what we call the rational\nself is not only rational, but also something more: that, if analysed\nout, the reason will not appear as the root and core of the man, but\nrather as an element inhering in a yet more central base: and that\nwhenever the energy of vital action is put out, we are driven to look\nthrough and beyond reason, if we would unearth the source whence the\nact springs.\n\nThe relation, then, of reason to faith is not strange, or forced, or\nunfamiliar to us, if it is much the same as its relation to the\naffections, or to moral acts and intuitions. We know what to expect,\nwhat part it ought to play in such a case. As in a case of heroic\nmoral daring, or high affection, so, in a matter of faith, we shall\nexpect that reason, with its arguments and its evidences, will play\nall round and about it, will go before it, discussing the path to\nfollow, will follow after it, unravelling the secret forces at work in\nit: will watch, and analyse, and learn, and warn; will reconnoitre,\nand examine, and survey, and discover: will justify, interpret,\ndefend, assist. But yet we shall expect, also, that the act of faith\nwill do more than all the arguments can anticipate: that it will hold\nitself free from them all: that it will appeal, not to them, but to\nits own inherent force, for the final decision: that it will move by\ninstinct, by spontaneity, by inspiration: that it will rush past all\nevidences, in some great stride; that it will brush through scruples\nthat cannot be gainsaid, and obstacles that cannot be got over; that\nit will surprise, that it will outdo, that it will create; that it\nwill bring novel forces into play, invisible, unaccountable,\nincalculable; that it will fly, when reason walks; that it will laugh,\nwhen reason trembles: that it will over-leap barriers which reason\ndeems final. As with love, so with faith, it will take in all\nevidences, it will listen to all proofs; but when they have done their\nutmost, it has yet got to begin; it itself, after all its\ncalculations, must make the actual spring, which is the decision. Out\nof itself, it draws its strength: out of itself it makes its effort;\nby being what it is, it sees what it sees, it does what it does. It\nuses the evidence; but uses it to leap from, to go further. Its\nmotives, advances, efforts, issue from within itself. Just as the\nlover's final answer to the question, 'why did you do that?' must be,\n'because I loved'; so the final answer of the believer, in explanation\nof an act, can never be wrung out of the reasonable grounds for so\nacting; it must always be 'because I believed.' Just as man first\nacts, and speaks, and reason, following behind, can at last discover\nthat his actions were all consecutive, and that his language has a\nperfect grammar; so faith has always to make its venture, prompted and\ninspired from within, and only long afterwards can it expect to learn\nthat if it has been true to itself, to its proper promptings, then its\naction can, by slow and plodding reason, be thoroughly interpreted and\njustified. Faith is, above all things, anticipatory. The sonship,\nwithin, anticipates what the Father has in store for it: by means of\naffection, by rapid instincts of love, it assumes what it cannot yet\nverify, it foretells the secrets that lie hidden within the Father's\neyes. So anticipating, it makes its venture;--a venture which love\nalone can understand and justify, though the faithfulness of the\neternal and supreme Father ensures that the anticipation shall receive\nits full verification.\n\nIf this be the relation of faith to reason, we see the explanation of\nwhat seems, at first sight, to the philosopher, to be the most\nirritating and hypocritical characteristic of faith. It is always\nshifting its intellectual defences. It adopts this or that fashion of\nphilosophical apology; and then, when this is shattered by some novel\nscientific generalisation, faith, probably after a passionate struggle\nto retain the old position, suddenly and gaily abandons it, and takes\nup with the new formula, just as if nothing had happened: it discovers\nthat the new formula is admirably adapted for its purposes, and is, in\nfact, just what it always meant, only it has unfortunately omitted to\nmention it. So it goes on, again and again; and no wonder that the\nphilosophers growl at those humbugs, the clergy!\n\nBut they are criticising faith as if it were a theory, as if knowledge\nwere its province, while, in truth, the seat of faith lies back behind\nthe region of knowledge. Its radical acts and motives are independent\nof any particular condition of thought or science: they are deeper\nrecessed; they exist in their own right, and under their own\nconditions. True, they may not be able to express themselves, to get\ntheir energies forward, to set themselves free, to manifest\nthemselves, except through the mediation of knowledge,--through the\ninstruments and channels which the science of the day provides them.\nBut this does not confuse their inherent and distinct character. They\nnever identify themselves with the tools they use. They sit quite\nloose to the particular state of thought, the formula, the terms,\nthrough which they make their way out into action. And, moreover,\nsince the acts of faith are more radical than those of reason, and\nsince they belong to the entire man acting in his integrity, they\ntherefore of necessity anticipate, in their degree, all that the man,\nby slow development, by the patient industry of reasoning, will\nlaboriously disclose. Lying deeper than all knowledge, they hold in\nthem the condition under which all knowledge will be arrived at. They\nconstitute the activity which ought to be at the background of all our\nreasoning. No particular or partial state of knowledge can exhaust\ntheir significance. Each step knowledge makes does but illustrate, in\nsome new fashion, the relation of all knowledge to faith--does but\nelucidate the characteristics of that primal sonship. In each fresh\ndiscovery or generalisation, faith finds a new instrument for\nexpressing its old convictions; it is taught to see the weak points,\nthe imperfections of its former expressions; it understands where they\nhold good, and where they failed; it gets out more of itself than ever\nbefore, through the new channels opened to it; it discovers more of\nits own character by finding better modes in which to manifest it. It\ndoes but half know itself, so long as its expression is encumbered.\n\nThe advance of secular knowledge, then, is for faith, an acquired\ngain: for by it, it knows itself better; it sees more of what was\ninvolved in its vital convictions. It has a struggle, no doubt, in\ndropping off the expressions that have grown familiar to it, and in\ndetecting the fresh insight into its own nature which it can win by\nthe new terminology: but when once it has mastered the terms, new\nlights break out upon it, new suggestions flash, new capacities\ndisclose themselves. It has won a new tool: when it has become\nfamiliarised with the use of it, it can do great and unexpected things\nwith it.\n\nBut, for all that, it is but a new tool, worked by the old\nconvictions; they have not changed, any more than love changes, though\nthe slow development of married life may carry the lovers into unknown\nexperiences, in foreign lands, under changed skies. The two, if they\nbe faithful, learn far more of what the love they plighted means, as\neach sweeping revolution carries them hither and thither, than ever\nthey understood on the wedding day; yet it is ever the old love then\npledged, which they hold fast to the end. Its identity is emphasised\nby the changes. So with faith. It may absorb its energies in the joy\nof wielding the particular instrument with which, at any one moment,\nscience supplies it. But it will never the least fear to drop it, so\nsoon as the advancing skill and the pushing minds of men have\nelaborated for it some yet more delicate and subtle tool, wherewith to\ngive free play to its native vitalities.\n\nFor faith is moved by but one solitary passion--the hope of cleaving,\ncloser and ever closer, to the being of God. It is, itself, nothing\nbut this act of personal adherence, of personal cohesion; and all else\nis, for it, material that can be subdued to this single service. Each\nbettering of knowledge intensifies the possibilities of this cohesion;\nand, for that, it is welcomed. It opens out fresh aspects of the good\nFather: it uncovers new treasures of His wisdom: therefore, for faith,\nit is an ever-mounting ladder, by which it draws nearer and nearer,\nspirit to spirit, heart to heart. No idle or indifferent matter this;\nand right knowledge, therefore, is for faith, a serious and pressing\nneed. And, moreover, faith is pledged to use all possible guidance and\ndirection in making its great act of self-surrender to God. And it is\nthe peculiar office of reason, and of the rational conscience, to\nguard it from any distorted and unworthy venture. Faith has to make\nits leap; but to make it exactly in that direction, and in no other,\nwhere reason points the way. It is bound therefore to use all its\nintelligent resources: it may not fall below the level of its highest\nreason without the risk of sinking to a superstition. This is the\nradical difference between what we here claim, and that which a\nsuperstition demands of us. A superstition asks faith to shut its\neyes. We ask it to open them as wide as it can. We demand this of it\nas a positive duty. It is bound, as an act of the whole man, to use\nevery conceivable means and security which knowledge can bring it. For\nso alone can it secure itself against the hazards which encompass its\nadventure. It cannot afford to enter on that venturous committal of\nitself less equipped and instructed than it was open to it to be. It\nmust put all to use that can better its offer of itself to God.\n\nIt is, in this seriousness, that faith is apt to embrace so fast the\ndominant scientific or philosophical creed. It has found, through this\ncreed, a new and thrilling insight into God's mind, and it fastens on\nthis precious gift; and dwells delightedly on it, and spends itself in\nabsorbing the peculiar truths which this particular way of thinking\nbrings to the front. So that, at last, when the smash comes, when the\nfloods break in, when the accumulation of new facts outside the old\nlines necessitates a total reconstruction of the intellectual fabric,\nfaith seems to have gone under with the ruined scheme to which it had\nattached itself so firmly.\n\nYet, if ever it has implicated its own fate with that of any\nparticular form of knowledge, it has been false to itself. It has no\nmore right to identify itself with any intellectual situation than it\nhas to pin its fortunes to those of any political dynasty. Its eternal\ntask lies in rapid readjustment to each fresh situation, which the\nmotion of time may disclose to it. It has that in it which can apply\nto all, and learn from all. Its identity is not lost, because its\nexpressions vary and shift: for its identity lies deep in personality;\nand personality is that which testifies to its own identity by the\nvariety and the rapidity of its self-adaptation to the changes of\ncircumstance. So with faith. Its older interpretations of itself are\nnot false, because the newer situations have called for different\nmanifestations. Each situation forces a new aspect to the front. But\never it is God and the soul, which recognise each other under every\ndisguise. Now it is in one fashion and now in another: but it is\nalways one unalterable wisdom which is justified, recognised, and\nloved, by those who are her children.\n\nWe will not, then, be the least afraid of the taunt, that we are all\naccepting and delivering from our pulpits that which once threw us\ninto anger and dismay. Only let us learn our true lesson; and, in our\nzeal to appreciate the wonders of Evolution, let us hold ourselves\nprepared for the day which is bound to come, when again the gathering\nfacts will clamour for a fresh generalisation: and the wheel will give\none more turn; and the new man will catch sight of the vision which is\npreparing; and the new book will startle; and the new band of youthful\nprofessors will denounce and demolish our present heroes; and all the\nreviews and magazines will yelp in chorus at their heels, proclaiming\nloudly that now, at last and for ever, the faith, which has pledged\nitself so deeply to the obsolete and discredited theory of Evolution,\nis indeed dead and done with. Faith will survive that crisis, as it\nhas survived so many before: but it will be something, if it does not\ndrag behind it the evil record of passion, and blindness, with which\nit has too often disgraced its unwilling passage from truth to truth.\n\n\nIV. But here our objections take, perhaps, a new turn altogether. 'Ah,\nyes!' it will be said; 'faith, if it were a simple surrender of the\nsoul to God, a childlike adhesion of the spiritual sonship in us to\nits Father, Who is in heaven, might sit loose to all formul\u00e6,\ntheories, discoveries, in the way described. Faith, if it limited\nitself to this mystical communion, might be beyond the scope and\ncriticism of reason. But this is not the least what you really ask of\nus. The faith, for which you practically plead, the only form of faith\nactually open to us, has rashly left these safe confines: it has\nimplicated itself with a vast body of facts recorded in a book. It has\ninvolved itself in intricate statements of dogma. How can you claim to\nbe free from the control of logic and criticism, in things so directly\nopen to logical treatment? This spiritual faith of yours has mixed\nitself up with alien matter, with historical incidents, with\nintellectual definitions: here are things of evidence and proof. Here\nits locks are shorn; its mystic strength is gone. Delilah holds it\nfast; it is a prisoner in the hands of the Philistines. If you will\nretreat again back into the region of simple spiritual intuitions, and\nabandon to reason this debatable land, how gladly would we follow you!\nBut that is just what you refuse to do.'\n\nNow, here is the serious moment for us of to-day. It is quite true\nthat all would be plain and easy, if we might be allowed to make this\nretreat--if we might limit our claims for the spirit to that simple\nchildlike intuition which, instinctively, feels after, and surrenders\nto, the good Father in heaven. But what would that retreat mean? It\nwould mean an attempt, desperate and blind, to turn back the world's\nstory, to ignore the facts, to over-leap the distinctions of time and\nplace, to deny experience, to force ourselves back into primitive\ndays, to imagine ourselves children again. Simple intuitions of God,\nsimple communion with the Father, unquestioned, undistracted,--this is\nthe privilege of primitive days, when minds are simple, when\nexperience is simple, when society is simple. Plain, easy, and direct\nsituations admit of plain, easy, and direct handling. But our\nsituation is not plain, easy, or direct. Our minds are intricate and\ncomplicated; our story has been a long and a difficult one; our social\ncondition is the perplexed deposit of age-long experiences. The faith,\nwhich is to be ours to-day, must be a faith of to-day. It cannot\nremain at the level of childhood, when nothing else in us or about us\nis the least childlike. It cannot babble out in pretty baby-language,\nwhen the situation with which it has to deal is terribly earnest,\nserious, perilous, and intense. It must be level with its work; and\nits work is complicated, hard, disciplined: how can it expect to\naccomplish it without effort, without pain, without training, without\nintricacy? The world is old; human life is old; and faith is old also.\nIt has had many a strange and stormy experience; it has learned much\non the way; it has about it the marks of old troubles; the care, the\npatience, the completeness of age, have left their stamp upon it. It\nhas had a history, like everything else; and it reaches us to-day, in\na form which that history behind it can alone make intelligible. Four\nthousand years have gone to its making--since Abraham first laid hold,\nin a definite and consistent manner, of the faith which is ours\nto-day. All those centuries it has been putting itself together,\ngrowing, enriching itself, developing, as it faced and measured each\nnew issue, each gathering complication, each pressing hazard. This\nlong experience has built up faith's history: and, by study of that\nhistory, we can know why it was that faith could not stand still at\nthat point where we should find it so convenient to rest. Faith\nappeals to its own story to justify its career; it bears about that\nhistory with it as its explanation, why, and how it has arrived at its\npresent condition. That history is its proof how far it has left its\nfirst childhood behind it, how impossible it is, at the end of the\ndays, to return to the beginning. The history, which constitutes our\ndifficulty, is its own answer. For there, in that Bible, lies the\nrecorded story of the facts which pressed hard upon the earliest\nintuition of God, and drove it forward, and compelled it to fix\nitself, and to define itself, and to take a firmer root, and to make\nfor itself a secure dwelling-place, and to shape for itself a career.\nThe Bible is the apology which our faith carries with it, and offers\nas a proof of the necessity which has forced it to go beyond its\nprimitive efforts, until it has reached the stage at which we now\nencounter it. It portrays there, before our eyes, how it all began;\nhow there came to this man and to that, the simple augury, the\npresage, the spasm of spiritual insight, the flash, the glimpse, the\nintimation; until there came the man, Abraham, in whom it won the\nemphasis, the solidity, the power, of a call. 'Oh! that we might be\ncontent to feel, as he, the presence of the Everlasting! Why not leave\nus in peace, we cry, with the simple faith of Abraham?' And the answer\nis plain: 'because it is the nineteenth century after Christ, instead\nof the nineteenth century before.' We are making a mistake of dates.\nLet us turn to our Bible and read. There we watch the reasons\ndisclosing themselves why that simple faith could not abide in arrest\nat its first moment; why it must open a new career, with new duties,\nand new responsibilities, and new problems. The seed is sown, but it\nhas to grow; to make good its footing amid the thick of human affairs;\nto root itself in the soil of human history; to spread itself out in\ninstitutions; to push its dominion; to widen its range; to become a\ntree that will fill the land. Before Abraham, it was but a flying\nseed, blown by the winds; now, it is a stable, continuous, masterful\ngrowth. It must be this, if it is ever to make effective its spiritual\nassertions over the increasing intricacy of human affairs.\n\nWhat, let us ask, is that life of faith which historically began with\nAbraham? It is a friendship, an intimacy, between man and God, between\na son and a father. Such an intimacy cannot be idle or stagnant; it\ncannot arrest its instinctive development. It holds in it infinite\npossibilities of growth: of increasing familiarity, of multiplied\ncommunion. And, thus, such a friendship creates a story of its own; it\nhas its jars, its frictions, its entanglements; alas! on one side, its\nlapses, its quarrels, its blunders, its misunderstandings: and then,\non the other, its corresponding indignations, and withdrawals, and\nrebukes; and yet again, its reconciliations, its reactions, its\npardons, its victories. Ever it moves forward on its chequered path:\never God, the good Friend, spends Himself in recovering the intimacy,\nin renewing it, in purging it, in raising it. Its conditions expand:\nits demands intensify: its perils deepen: its glories gather: until it\nconsummates its effort in the perfected communion of God and man--in\nHim, Who completes and closes the story of this ever-growing intimacy,\nby that act of supreme condescension which brings down God to inhabit\nand possess the heart of man: and by that act of supreme exaltation,\nwhich uplifts man into absolute union with the God Who made him.\n\nThis is the story: the Bible is its record. As a body of incidents and\nfacts it must be subject to all the conditions of history and the laws\nof evidence; as a written record it introduces a swarm of questions,\nwhich can be sifted and decided by rational criticism. This entails\ncomplications, it must be confessed; but they are inevitable. The\nintimacy between man and God cannot advance, except through the\npressure of connected and recorded experience. A human society which\nhas no record of its past is robbed of its future. It is savage: it\ncannot go forward, because it cannot look back. So with this divine\nfriendship. Its recorded experiences are the one condition of its\ngrowth. Without them it must always be beginning afresh: it must\nremain imprisoned at the starting-post. The length and complexity of\nits record is the measure of its progress; even though they must\npresent, at the same time, a larger surface to the handling of\ncriticism, and may involve a deeper degree of obscurity in details.\n\nAnd, after all, though details drawn out of a dead past permit\nobscurity, the nature and character of the main issue become ever more\nfixed and distinct, as the long roll of circumstances discloses its\nricher secrets. The very shift and confusion of the surface-material\nthrows out, in emphatic contrast, the firm outlines of the gathering\nand growing mystery. Ever the advance proceeds, throwing off all that\nis accidental, immaterial, subservient: ever man becomes clearer in\nhis recognition of the claims made on him by the hope which God keeps\never before Him, 'They shall be my people: I will be their God.' Ever\nthe necessities of such an intimate affection point to the coming of\nthe Christ. Christ is the end, the sum, the completion, of this\nhistoric friendship: and His advent is, therefore, absolutely\nunintelligible unless it is held in relation to the long experience,\nwhich He interprets, justifies, and fulfils. Faith in Christ is the\nlast result, the ultimate and perfected condition of that faith of\nAbraham, which enabled him to become the first friend of God. And the\nimmense experience that lay between Abraham and St. Paul, can alone\nbridge the interval, can alone exhibit the slow and laborious\nevolution, through which the primitive apprehension of God was\ntransformed into the Christian Creed--that mighty transformation,\nspread out over two thousand years of varied history, which our Lord\nsummed up in the lightning-flash, 'Your father Abraham rejoiced to see\nmy day: and he saw it, and was glad.' The Book is the record of those\ntested and certified experiments, which justified our Lord in\nasserting that to believe in God was, necessarily, to believe in Him.\nNo one can understand that assertion, unless by seeing it worked out,\nin detail, by the searching logic of experience.\n\nFaith in Christ, then, includes faith in the Bible: and, in saying\nthat, we have already cleared away much of the difficulty that beset\nus. For our faith in Christ becomes the measure and standard of our\nfaith in the Bible. We believe in it as the record of our growing\nintimacy with God. Faith is, still, a spiritual cohesion of person\nwith person,--of the living soul with a living God. No details that\nintervene confuse this primitive relation. Only, that cohesion was not\nreached at one leap. It is ancient: it has traversed many incidents\nand trials: it has learned much: it has undergone patient\napprenticeship: it has been bonded by the memory of multitudinous\nvicissitudes. Like all else that is human, it has grown. The details\nof events are the media of that growth. In _that_ character they are\nvitally essential to the formed intimacy: but in that character alone.\nThey are not valued for their own sake; but for the cause which they\nserved. Belief in God never changes its character, and becomes belief\nin facts: it only developes into a deeper and deeper belief in God, as\ndisciplined by facts. The facts must be real, if the discipline is to\nbe real: but, apart from this necessity, we are indifferent to them.\nWe can listen to anything which historical criticism has to tell us,\nof dates and authorship; of time and place. It may supply all the gaps\nin our record, showing how the material there briefly gathered, had,\nitself, a story, and slowly came together, and had sources and\nassociations elsewhere. All such research adds interest to the record,\nas it opens out to us the action of the Divine Intimacy, in laying\nhold of its material. We watch it, by the aid of such criticism, at\nits work of assimilation; and, in uncovering its principles of\nselection, we apprehend its inner mind: we draw closer to our God. The\nmore nearly we can ally the early conditions of Israel to those of\nArabian nomads, the more delicate and rare becomes our apprehension of\nthat divine relationship, which, by its perpetual pressure, lifted\nIsrael to its marvellous supremacy, and which, by its absence, left\nthe Arabian to be what he is to-day.\n\nThe point at which criticism must hold off its hands is, of course, a\nmost subtle matter to decide. But we can, at least, be sure of\nthis--that such a point will be no arbitrary one; it will be there,\nwhere criticism attempts to trench on the reality and the uniqueness\nof the Divine Intimacy, which those incidents served to fashion, and\nthose books detected and recorded, and Christ consummated. Our faith\nin Christ must determine what, in the Bible, is vital to its own\nveracity. There is no other measure or rule of what we mean by\ninspiration.\n\nThe preparation for Christ, then, necessitates such complications as\nthese. And the character of His advent intensified and thickened them.\nFor, while asking of us the purest form of spiritual adherence, He\nmakes that demand in a shape which is imbedded throughout in concrete\nhistorical facts, which, as facts, must be subject to the thumb of\ncritical discussion, and to all the external handling of evidence and\nargument.\n\nAnd, then, on the top of this, He has, of necessity, raised the\nquestion of His own Personality to such a pitch of vital value, that\nthe full force of man's intellectual activities is drawn towards its\nconsideration,--is summoned to contemplate, and measure, and apprehend\nit,--is compelled to examine and face its tremendous issues. The\nsupreme act of personal surrender, for which Christ unhesitatingly\nasks, cannot conceivably pass beyond its child-stage without forming a\ndirect and urgent challenge to the intellect to say how, and why, such\nan act can be justified, or such a claim interpreted. No faith can\nreach to such an absolute condition without finding itself involved in\nanxieties, perils, problems, complications. Its very absoluteness is a\nprovocation to the questioning and disputing mind,--to the hesitating\nand scrupulous will. And the result, the inevitable result, of such a\nfaith--proposed, as it was, to a world no longer young and childlike,\nbut matured, old, thoughtful, experienced--is the Dogmatic Creeds. We\nclamour against these intellectual complications: we cry out for the\nsimple primitive faith. But, once again, it is a mistake of dates. We\ncannot ask to be as if eighteen centuries had dropped out,\nunnoticed--as if the mind had slumbered since the days of Christ, and\nhad never asked a question. We cannot hope to be in the same condition\nafter a question has been asked, as we were before it had ever\noccurred to us to ask it. The Creeds only record that certain\nquestions have, as a fact, been asked. Could our world be what it is,\nand not have asked them? These difficulties of a complicated faith are\nonly the reflection of the difficulties of a complicated life. If, as\na fact, we are engaged in living a life which is intricate, subtle,\nanxious, then any faith which hopes to cover and embrace that life,\ncannot escape the necessity of being intricate, subtle, and anxious\nalso. No child's creed can satisfy a man's needs, hunger, hopes,\nanxieties. If we are asked to throw over the complications of our\nCreeds, we must beg those that ask us, to begin by throwing over the\ncomplications of this social and moral life.\n\nBut still, with the Creeds as with the Bible, it is the personal\nintimacy with God in Christ which alone is our concern. We do not, in\nthe strict sense, believe _in_ the Bible, or _in_ the Creeds: we\nbelieve solely and absolutely in Christ Jesus. Faith is our living act\nof adherence in Him, of cohesion with God. But still, once more, we\nmust recognise that this act of adhesion has a history: it has\ngradually been trained and perfected: and this has been accomplished\nthrough the long and perilous experiences recorded in the Old\nTestament; and it has been consummated in the final sealing of the\nperfected intimacy attained in Him, in Whose person it was realised\nand made possible for us: and it has been guarded and secured to us in\nthe face of the overwhelming pressure of eighteen strong, stormy, and\ndistracted centuries. And therefore it is that we now must attain our\ncohesion with God, subject to all the necessities laid upon us by the\nfact that we enter on the world's stage at a late hour, when the drama\nhas already developed its plot and complicated its situations. This is\nwhy we cannot now, in full view of the facts, believe in Christ,\nwithout finding that our belief includes the Bible and the Creeds.\n\n\nV. Faith is, still and always, a spiritual intimacy, a living\nfriendship with God. That is what we must be for ever asserting. That\nis the key to all our problems; and once sure of this in all its\nbearings, we shall not be afraid of a taunt which is apt to sting\nespecially those of us who are ordained. It is conveyed, in its\nnoblest form, in a book of Mr. John Morley's, on Compromise. No one\ncan read that book without being the better or the worse for it. The\nintense force of high moral convictions acts upon us like a judgment.\nIt evokes the deepest conscience in us to come forward, and stand at\nthat austere bar and justify itself, or, in failing to justify itself,\nsink condemned. And in that book he asks the old question, with\nunequalled power: how can it possibly be honest for men to sign away\ntheir reason at the age of twenty-three?--to commit themselves to\nconclusions which they cannot have mastered--to anticipate beforehand\nall that experience may have to teach? In committing themselves to\npositions which any new knowledge or discovery may reverse, they have\nforbidden themselves the free use of their critical faculties: they\nhave resigned their intellectual conscience.\n\nWhat do we answer to that severe arraignment? Surely we now know well.\nFaith is an affair of personal intimacy, of friendship, of will, of\nlove: and, in all such cases, we should know exactly what to do with\nlanguage of this type. We should laugh it out of court. For it is\nlanguage which does not belong to this region. It is the language, it\nexpresses the temper, of the scientific student--a temper, an attitude\nspecialised for a distinct purpose. That purpose is one of gradual\nadvance into regions as yet untouched and unsuspected--an advance\nwhich is for ever changing the relations and classifications of those\nalready partially known. The temper essential to such a purpose must\nbe prepared for discovery, for development, for the unexpected; it is\nbound to be tentative, experimental, hypothetical--to be cool,\ncritical, corrective. It deals with impersonal matter; and it must\nitself, therefore, be as far as possible impersonal, abstract,\nnon-moral, without passion, without individuality, without a private\nintention, or will, or fixed opinion.\n\nBut such a temper, perfectly justified for scientific purposes, is\nabsolutely impotent and barren in matters of moral feeling and\npractice.\n\nThe man who brings this temper into play in affairs of the will, or\nthe heart, or the imagination, in cases of affection, friendship,\npassion, inspiration, generosity, in the things of home, of war, of\npatriotism, of love, is in the wrong world: he is a living blunder: he\nhas no cue, no key, no interpretation. He is simply absurd.\n\nAnd religion stands with these affairs. Just as we see well enough\nthat if love were approached in this scientific spirit, it could not\neven begin, so it is quite as certain that, if faith were approached\nin this spirit, it could not even begin.\n\nMr. Morley has mixed up two different worlds. He is criticising that\nform of knowledge, which consists in spiritual apprehension of\nanother's personality through the whole force of a man's inherent, and\nintegral, and personal, will and desire, by the standard of another\nform of knowledge altogether, which consists in gradual and\nexperimental assimilation of foreign and unknown matter through\nspecialised organs of critical observation.\n\nThis latter knowledge is bound to be as far as possible emptied of\npersonal elements. But our knowledge is nothing if not personal: it is\nthe knowledge which issues, and issues only, out of the personal\ncontact of life with life. And this is why it can afford to anticipate\nthe future. For a person is a consistent and integral whole: if you\nknow it at any one point, you know it in a sense at all points. The\none character, the one will, disclose themselves through every partial\nexpression, and passing gesture, and varying act. Therefore it is\nthat, when two personalities draw towards one another in the touch of\nlove, they can afford to plight their word. For love is the\ninstinctive prophecy of a future adherence. It is the assurance,\npassing from soul to soul, that no new discovery of what is involved\nin their after-life together can ever deny, or defeat, or destroy\ntheir present mutual coherence in each other. That adhesion, that\nadaptability, which has been proved at a few points, will necessarily\nbe justified throughout. The marriage-pledge expresses the absolute\nconviction that the present experience is irreversible, except by\nwilful sin. Whatever novelties the years bring with them, those two\ncharacters will abide what they are to-day. Growth cannot radically\nalter them.\n\nLove, then, is this confident anticipation, which takes the future in\npledge. And where this anticipation breaks down, it must be through\nhuman infirmity, wrong, misunderstanding.\n\nAnd our knowledge of Christ is this knowledge of love; wherever it\nexists, and so far as it exists, it issues out of personal contact,\npersonal inter-action. This is why, in its tested and certified form,\ni.e. in the accumulated and historic experience of the Catholic\ncommunity, it can rationally justify its anticipation of an unbroken\nadherence.\n\nAnd it can do so with complete confidence, because, here, on the side\nof Christ, there is no infirmity which can endanger the plighted\nfaith: there is no lapse, no decline possible. Christ must be loyal,\nfor He is sinless. And more: being sinless, He is consistent. Every\npart of Him is in harmony with the whole: in Him there is no\nunsteadiness, no insecurity. Such a flawless character is identical\nwith itself: wherever it is touched, it can be tested and approved.\n\nWhat, then, can upset our trust in Him? What can disturb our knowledge\nof Him? What fear of change can the years bring on? We may know but a\ntiny fragment, a fringe of this love of His to us, yet that is enough:\nto have felt it at all is to trust it for ever. We cannot hesitate to\ncommit ourselves to One Who, if we know Him in any way, is known to\nbe, by inward, personal, inherent necessity, the 'same yesterday,\nto-day, and for ever.'\n\nYes!--but still it may be pleaded, that this anticipatory adherence,\nwhich might justifiably be given to a person beloved, cannot be\npledged to dogmatic definitions. These, at any rate, are matters not\nof love, but of reason: they must be liable to critical examination,\nto intellectual revision. It is the pledge given to believe these\ndogmas in the future, which is such an outrage on intellectual\nmorality.\n\nNow, this protest, forcible and obvious as it looks at first sight, is\nstill guilty of confusing the criticism which belongs to one province\nof knowledge with that which belongs to another. These dogmas of faith\ndo not the least correspond to the classifications and laws of\nphysical science; and for this reason, that the matter to which they\nrelate is wholly different in kind. Dogmas represent reason in its\napplication to a personal life: scientific generalisations represent\nreason as applied to matter, from which the conditions of personality\nhave been rigorously and rightly excluded. The difference is vital;\nand it affects the entire character of the working of reason.\n\nThe dogmatic definitions of Christian theology can never be divorced\nfrom their contact in the personality of Christ. They are statements\nconcerning a living character. As such, and only as such, do they come\nwithin the lines of faith. We do not, in the strict sense, believe in\nthem: for belief is never a purely intellectual act; it is a movement\nof the living man drawn towards a living person. Belief can only be in\nJesus Christ. To Him alone do we ever commit ourselves, surrender\nourselves, for ever and aye. But a personality, though its roots lie\ndeeper than reason, yet includes reason within its compass: a\npersonality cannot but be rational, though it be more than merely\nrational; it has in it a rational ground, a rational construction; it\ncould not be what it is without being of such and such a fixed and\norganic character. And a personality, therefore, is intelligible; it\nlays itself open to rational treatment; its characteristics can be\nstated in terms of thought. The Will of God is the Word of God; the\nLife is also the Light. That which is loved can be apprehended; that\nwhich is felt can be named. So the Personality of the Word admits of\nbeing rationally expressed in the sense that reason can name and\ndistinguish those elements in it, which constitute its enduring and\nessential conditions. The dogmas now in question, are simply careful\nrehearsals of those inherent necessities which, inevitably, are\ninvolved in the rational construction of Christ's living character.\nThey are statements of what He must be, if He is what our hearts\nassure us; if He can do that for which our wills tender Him their\nlifelong self-surrender. Unless these rational conditions stand, then,\nno act of faith is justifiable; unless His personality correspond to\nthese assertions, we can never be authorised in worshipping Him.\n\nBut, if so, then we can commit ourselves to these dogmas in the same\nway, and degree, as we commit ourselves to Him. We can do so, in the\nabsolute assurance that He cannot but abide for ever, that which we\nknow Him to be to-day. We know Him indeed, but 'in part:' but it is\npart of a fixed and integral character, which is whole in every part;\nand can never falsify, in the future, the revelation which it has\nalready made of itself.\n\nThe real question, as to Christian dogma, lies in the prior\nquestion--Is Christianity justified in claiming to have reached a\n_final_ position? If the position is rightly final, then the\nintellectual expression of its inherent elements is final also. Here\nis the deep contrast between it and science. The scientific man is\nforbidden, by the very nature of his studies, to assume finality for\nhis propositions. For he is not yet in command of his material. Far,\nvery far, from it. He is touching it on its very edge. He is engaged\nin slowly pushing tentative advances into an unknown world, looming,\nvast, dim, manifold, beyond his frontier of light. The coherence of\nhis known matter with that huge mass beyond his ken, can be but\nfaintly imaged and suspected. Wholly unreckoned forces are in\noperation. At any moment he may be called upon to throw over the\nclassification which sums up his hitherto experience; he may have to\nadopt a new centre; to bring his facts into a novel focus; and this\ninvolves at once a novel principle of arrangement. In such conditions\ndogma is, of course, an absurdity. But, if we are in a position to\nhave any faith in Jesus Christ, then we must suppose that we have\narrived at the one centre to all possible experiences, the one focus,\nunder which all sights must fall. To believe in Him at all is to\nbelieve that, by and in 'this Man, will God judge the world.' In His\npersonality, in His character, we are in possession of the ultimate\nprinciple, under which the final estimate of all things will be taken.\nWe have given us, in His sacrifice and mission, the absolute rule,\nstandard, test, right to the very end. Nothing can fall outside it. In\nHim, God has summed up creation. We have touched, in Him, the 'last\ndays,' the ultimate stage of all development. We cannot believe in Him\nat all, and not believe that His message is final.\n\nAnd it is this finality which justifies dogma. If Christianity is\nfinal, it can afford to be dogmatic; and we, who give our adhesion to\nit, must, in so doing, profess our adhesion to the irreversible nature\nof its inherent principles: for, in so doing, we are but re-asserting\nour belief in the absolute and final sufficiency of His person.\n\nLet us venture, now, to review the path that we have travelled, in\norder that we may see at what point we have arrived. Faith, then, is,\nfrom first to last, a spiritual act of the deepest personal will,\nproceeding out of that central core of the being, where the self is\nintegral and whole, before it has sundered itself off into divided\nfaculties. There, in that root-self, lie the germs of all that appears\nin the separate qualities and gifts--in feelings, in reason, in\nimagination, in desire; and faith, the central activity, has in it,\ntherefore, the germs of all these several activities. It has in it\nthat which becomes feeling, yet is not itself a feeling. It has in it\nthat which becomes reason, yet is not itself the reason. It holds in\nit imaginative elements, yet is no exercise of the imagination. It is\nalive with that which desires, craves, loves; yet is not itself merely\nan appetite, a desire, a passion. In all these qualities it has its\npart: it shares their nature; it has kindred motions; it shows itself,\nsometimes through the one, and sometimes through the other, according\nto the varieties of human, characters. In this man, it can make the\nfeeling its main instrument and channel; in that man, it will find the\nintellect its chief minister; in another, it will make its presence\nknown along the track of his innermost craving for a support in will\nand in love. But it will always remain something over, and beyond, any\none of its distinctive media; and not one of these specialities of\ngift will ever, therefore, be able to account wholly for the faith\nwhich puts it to use. That is why faith must always remain beyond its\nrealised evidences. If it finds, in some cases, its chief evidences in\nthe region of feeling, it is nevertheless open to deadly ruin, if ever\nit identifies itself with these evidences, as if it could rely on them\nto carry it through. It may come into being by their help; but it is\nnever genuine faith, until it can abide in self-security at those dry\nhours, when the evidences of positive feeling have been totally\nwithdrawn. And as with feeling; so with reason. Faith looks to reason\nfor its proofs: it must count on finding them; it offers for itself\nintellectual justifications. It may arrive at a man by this road. But\nit is not itself reason; it can never confuse itself with a merely\nintellectual process. It cannot, therefore, find, in reason, the full\ngrounds for its ultimate convictions. Ever it retains its own inherent\ncharacter, by which it is constituted an act of personal trust--an act\nof willing and loving self-surrender to the dominant sway of another's\npersonality. It is always this, whether it springs up instinctively,\nout of the roots of our being, anticipating all after-proof, or\nwhether it is summoned out into vitality at the close of a long and\nlate argumentative process. No argument, no array of arguments,\nhowever long, however massive, can succeed in excusing it from that\nmomentous effort of the inner man, which is its very essence. Let\nreason do its perfect work: let it heap up witness upon witness, proof\nupon proof. Still there will come at last the moment when the call to\nbelieve will be just the same to the complete and reasonable man as it\nalways is to the simplest child--the call to trust Another with a\nconfidence which reason can justify but can never create. This act,\nwhich is faith, must have in it that spirit of venture, which closes\nwith Another's invitation, which yields to Another's call. It must\nstill have in it and about it the character of a vital motion,--of a\nleap upward, which dares to count on the prompting energies felt astir\nwithin it.\n\nFaith cannot transfer its business into other hands to do its work for\nit. It cannot request reason to take its own place, or achieve its\nproper results. There is no possibility of devolution here; it cannot\ndelegate its functions to this faculty or to that. It is by forgetting\nthis that so many men are to be found, at the close of many arguments\nof which they fully acknowledge the convincing force, still hovering\non the brink of faith, never quite reaching it, never passing beyond\nthe misery of a prolonged and nerveless suspense. They hang back at\nthe very crisis, because they have hoped that their reasoning powers\nwould, by their own force, have made belief occur. They are like birds\non a bough, who should refuse to fly until they have fully known that\nthey can. Their suspense would break and pass, if once they remembered\nthat, to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, they must always be as little\nchildren. They must call upon the child within them. At the end, as at\nthe beginning, of all the argumentative work, it is still the temper\nof a child which they must bring into play. There must still be the\nenergy of self-committal,--the movement of a brave surrender. Once let\nthem turn, enforced by all the pressure of reasonable evidence, to\nthis secret fount of life within the self, and back flows the strength\nwhich was theirs long ago, when the inspiration of their innate\nsonship moved sweetly in them, breeding confidence, secure of itself,\nundaunted, and unfatigued. That sonship abides in us all, cumbered and\nclouded though it be by our sin; it abides on and on, fed by the\nsuccours of a Father Who can never forget or forsake, and Who is\nworking hitherto to recover and redeem. And while it abides, faith is\nstill possible. For its native motions are the spontaneous outcome of\nthat spiritual kinship which, if once alive and free, impels us\ntowards Him by Whose love we have been begotten. Reason and feeling,\nproof and argument--these are means and instruments by which we can\ninvoke this sonship into action, and release it from much which\nfetters and enslaves. But it is the actual upspringing force of the\nsonship itself, which alone can be the source of belief. And as it is\ngiven to all to be sons of God, through the eternal sonship of Christ,\ntherefore it is open to all to count upon possessing the conditions of\nfaith in God.\n\n  NOTE.--This essay has, for its sole aim, the reassurance of an\n  existing faith in face of temporary perplexities. It therefore takes\n  faith as a present and possible fact. It assumes man to be a\n  creature who believes. And it tries to show why such belief, if it\n  be there, should not be discouraged by difficulties which belong to\n  the very nature of its original grounds. For this it recalls the\n  depth and security with which the roots of faith run back into the\n  original constitution of man; which original constitution, however\n  broken, thwarted, maimed, polluted by sin, remains still in us as\n  the sole pledge and ground of our possible redemption in Christ, Who\n  comes to restore the blurred image of God in us, and Who must find\n  in us the radical elements of the supernatural nature which He\n  enters to renew. To its enduring existence in the heart of man\n  Christ always appeals. Men are still children of their Father Who is\n  in heaven; and therefore He can demand, as the sole and primal\n  condition of redemption, _Faith_, which is the witness of the unlost\n  sonship. That faith He still assumes to be possible, by the\n  invitation to man to believe and so be healed. He makes this\n  invitation just as if it were in man's own power to respond to it\n  without for the moment touching on the necessity which, through the\n  very effort to believe, man will discover for himself--i.e. the\n  necessity of God's gift of the Spirit to make such belief exist.\n  Such a gift belonged to the original condition of unfallen man, when\n  his _nature_ was itself supernaturally endowed with its adequate and\n  sustaining grace. Such a gift had to be renewed, after the ruin\n  wrought by sin, both by the restoration of the broken sonship within\n  the man through the beloved Son, as well as by the renewal of the\n  evoking and sustaining Spirit that should lift up, from within the\n  inner sonship, its living cry of Abba, Father. The right to believe,\n  and the power to believe, had both to be re-created.\n\n  But all that was so re-created has, for its preliminary ground, the\n  original constitution of man's sinless nature; and, in all our\n  treatment of redemption, we must begin by recalling what it was\n  which Christ entered to restore. That original condition was the\n  pledge of the recovery which God would bring to pass; and,\n  throughout the interval between fall and rescue, it could anticipate\n  the coming Christ by the faith which rejoiced to see His Day, and\n  saw His Glory, and spake of Him. Therefore the faith which Christ\n  raises to its new and higher power by concentrating it upon His own\n  Personality, is still, at core, the old faith which was the\n  prophetic witness given, under the conditions of the earlier\n  covenant, by that great army of the Faithful which is marshalled\n  before us by the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews, who most\n  certainly considers it possible and justifiable to emphasise the\n  continuity that holds between the faith of Abraham and the faith of\n  the redeemed.\n\n[53] Cf. on all this, an excellent statement in Mark Pattison's\n_Sermons_, Serm. 7.\n\n[54] It is not intended to deny that the mind can ever know itself,\nbut only that such knowledge can ever be won by methods of empirical\nobservation.\n\n[55] The word 'super-natural' is obviously misleading, since it seems\nto imply that the higher spiritual levels of life are _not_ 'natural.'\nOf course, the higher the life, the more intensely 'natural' it is;\nand the nature of God must be the supreme expression of the natural.\nBut the word 'super-natural' is, in reality, only concerned with the\npartial and conventional use of 'nature,' as a term under which we sum\nup all that constitutes this present and visible system of things.\n\n[56] It is this point of arrest which is reached and revealed by the\nprocess of Evolution, under the pressure of Natural Selection.\n\n[57] Faith is spoken of, here and elsewhere, in its perfect and true\nform, as if unthwarted by the misdirection, and hurt of sin.\n\n[58] Cf. pp. 105-107.\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\n_THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF GOD._\n\nAUBREY MOORE.\n\n\nI. The object of this essay is not to discuss the so-called 'proofs'\nof the existence of God, but to shew what the Christian doctrine of\nGod is, and how it has grown to be what it is, out of the antagonisms\nof earlier days; and then to ask--What fuller realization of God's\nrevelation of Himself is He giving us through the contradictions and\nstruggles of to-day? If it is true that 'the only ultimate test of\nreality is persistence, and the only measure of validity among our\nprimitive beliefs the success with which they resist all efforts to\nchange them[59],' it is of first importance to discover what it is\nwhich, through all the struggles of past history, the religious nature\nof man has persistently clung to. Much which was once dear to the\nreligious consciousness, and which seemed at the time to be an\nintegral part of the religious idea, has been given up. A former age\nabandoned it with regret, and looked forward with gloomy foreboding. A\nlater age looks back with thankfulness, and recognises 'the good Hand\nof our God' leading us to truer knowledge of Himself.\n\nIt would be idle to deny, after all due allowance has been made for\nthe natural tendency to believe that the present is the critical\nmoment, not only for us, but for the world at large, that the crisis\nof the present day is a very real one, and that the religious view of\nGod is feeling the effects of the change, which is modifying our views\nof the world and man. When such a fundamental idea is challenged, men\nare naturally tempted to adopt one of two equally onesided attitudes,\nto commit themselves either to a policy of unintelligent protest, or\nto a policy of unconditional surrender. And if the one is needlessly\ndespairing, the other is unwarrantably sanguine. The one asks,--'How\nmuch must I give up, of what religion has always been to me, that a\nlittle of the old may survive amidst the new?' The other asks,--'How\nlittle of the old need I keep, so as not to interfere with the ready\nacceptance of the new?' The one view is pessimist, the other optimist.\nBoth have their representatives in our day, and each party is\nprofoundly conscious of the danger to which the other is exposed. The\nadvocates of the one view, finding themselves 'in a place where two\nseas meet,' think it safer to 'run the ship aground'; those of the\nother 'seeing they cannot bear up against the wind' prefer to 'let her\ndrive.' But if the spirit of the one is merely protestant, the spirit\nof the other is certainly not catholic.\n\nIn contrast with these one-sided views, we propose to approach the\nquestion in the full conviction that the revelation of God in Christ\nis both true and complete, and yet that every new truth which flows in\nfrom the side of science, or metaphysics, or the experience of social\nand political life, is designed in God's providence to make that\nrevelation real, by bringing out its hidden truths. It is in this\nsense that the Christian revelation of God claims to be both final and\nprogressive; final, for Christians know but one Christ and do not\n'look for another'; progressive, because Christianity claims each new\ntruth as enriching our knowledge of God, and bringing out into greater\nclearness and distinctness some half-understood fragment of its own\nteaching. There are, no doubt, always to be found Christians, who are\nready to treat new knowledge as the Caliph Omar treated the books in\nthe library of Alexandria,--'they agree with the Koran and are\nunnecessary, or they disagree with it and must be destroyed.' But an\nintelligent Christian will not ask, 'Does this new truth agree with or\ncontradict the letter of the Bible?' but 'How does it interpret and\nhelp us to understand the Bible?' And so with regard to all truth,\nwhether it comes from the side of science, or history, or criticism,\nhe adopts neither the method of protest nor the method of surrender,\nbut the method of assimilation. In the face of new discoveries, the\nonly question he is anxious to answer is this,--'What old truth will\nthey explain, or enlighten, or make real to us? What is this new world\nof life and interest which is awaiting its consecration? \"Truth is an\never-flowing river, into which streams flow in from many sides[60].\"\nWhat is this new stream which is about to empty itself, as all\nknowledge must, into the great flood of Divine truth, \"that the earth\nmay be filled with the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the\nsea\"?'\n\nSuch a hopeful attitude does not, indeed, imply that the assimilation\nof the new truths will go on as a matter of course. The Christian\nknows that the acceptance of truth is a moral, as well as an\nintellectual, matter, and in the moral world there is no place for\n_laisser faire_. He expects to be called upon to struggle; he expects\nthat the struggle will need his utmost effort, moral and intellectual.\nHis work is both to keep and to claim; to hold fast the faith 'once\nfor all delivered to the saints,' and yet to see in every fragment of\ntruth a real revelation of the mind and will of God. He has no cut and\ndried answer to objections; he does not boast that he has no\ndifficulties. But he does claim to look out upon the difficulties of\nhis day, not only fearlessly, but with hope and trust. He knows that\nChristianity must triumph in the end, but he does not expect all\ndifficulties to be removed in a moment. And he is strong enough, if\nneed be, to wait.\n\n\nII. Whether anyone is really guilty of what Hume calls the 'multiplied\nindiscretion and imprudence' of dogmatic atheism, whether positivism\ncan rightly be so classed, whether agnosticism is not atheism to all\nintents and purposes, are questions which fortunately lie outside the\nscope of the present enquiry. As for polytheism it has ceased to exist\nin the civilised world. Every theist is, by a rational necessity, a\nmonotheist. But we find ourselves, in the present day, face to face\nwith two different views of God, which though they constantly, perhaps\ngenerally, overlap, and even sometimes coincide, yet imply different\npoints of view, and by a process of abstraction can be held apart and\ncontrasted with one another. Many devout Christians are philosophers\nand men of science; many men of science and philosophers are devout\nChristians. But the God of religion is not the God of science and\nphilosophy. Ideally, everyone will allow that the religious idea of\nGod, and the scientific and philosophical idea of God must be\nidentical, but in actual fact it is not so, and in the earlier stages\nof the development of both, there is a real antagonism. To accept this\nantagonism as absolute is, by a necessary consequence, to compel one\nto give way to the other. We cannot long hold two contradictory\ntruths. We find ourselves compelled to choose. We may have Religion or\nPhilosophy, but not both.\n\nVery few, however, are prepared to go this length. It is much more\nusual to get rid of the antagonism by adopting one of two alternative\nmethods.\n\n(1) Of these the first is a suggested division of territory, in which\nreligion is allotted to faith, and philosophy and science to reason.\nSuch an expedient, though not uncommonly, and perhaps even wisely,\nadopted by individuals, who refuse to give up either of two truths\nbecause they cannot harmonize them, becomes ridiculous when seriously\nproposed as a solution of the difficulty. Moreover the proposed\ndivision of territory is unfair to start with. 'Give us the Knowable,\nand you shall have the rest, which is far the larger half,' sounds\nlike a liberal offer made by science to religion, till we remember\nthat every advance in knowledge transfers something from the side of\nthe unknown to the side of the known, in violation of the original\nagreement. Mr. Herbert Spencer calls this division of territory a\n'reconciliation[61].' But if anything in the world could make religion\nhate and fear science and oppose the advance of knowledge, it is to\nfind itself compelled to sit still and watch the slow but sure\nfilching away of its territory by an alien power. We say nothing here\nof the fact that Mr. Herbert Spencer's division ignores the truth that\nknowledge of correlatives must be of the same kind[62], and that if\nknowledge has to do with one and faith with the other, either faith\nmust be a sort of knowledge, or knowledge a sort of faith. We merely\nnotice the unfairness of a division which assumes rationality for\nscience, and leaves irrationality to religion.\n\nCuriously enough, however, there are many devout people, who would be\nhorrified at the thought that they had borrowed from Agnosticism, and\nwho have nevertheless made a similar division of territory. They are\nthe people who stake all upon what reason cannot do. They have no\ninterest in the progress of knowledge. The present gaps in science are\ntheir stronghold, and they naturally resist every forward step in\nknowledge as long as they can, because each new discovery limits the\narea in which alone, according to their imperfect view, faith can\nlive. Every triumph of science on this theory, as on Mr. Herbert\nSpencer's, becomes a loss, not a gain, to religion. The very existence\nof God is bound up with that part of His work in nature which we\ncannot understand, and, as a consequence, we reach the paradox that\nthe more we know of His working, the less proof we have that He\nexists. Modern apologetic literature abounds in this kind of argument.\nIt is the devout form of the worship of the unknowable. Yet it is no\nwonder that people who take refuge in gaps find themselves awkwardly\nplaced when the gaps begin to close.\n\n(2) The other alternative is even more commonly adopted, for it fits\nin well with the vagueness and want of precision in language, which is\nat a premium in dealing with religious questions. This consists in\nfrittering away the meaning of definite terms till they are available\nfor anything, or adopting a neutral term which, by a little management\nand stretching, will include opposites. This is the method of\nindefinite inclusion. The strength of the former alternative lay in\nthe appearance of sharp scientific delimitation of territory: the\nstrength of the latter in its unlimited comprehensiveness. A term is\ngradually stripped of the associations which make it what it is, it is\n'defecated to a pure transparency,' and then it is ready for use. The\nterm 'God' is made merely 'a synonym for nature[63]'; religion becomes\n'habitual and permanent admiration[64],' or 'devout submission of the\nheart and will to the laws of nature[65]'; enthusiasm does duty for\nworship, and the antagonism between religion and anything else\ndisappears.\n\nNow so far as this represents, negatively, a reaction against\nintolerance and narrowness, and positively a desire for unity, there\nis not a word to be said against it. Its tone and temper may be both\nChristian and Catholic. But the method is a radically false one. It is\nnot a real, but only an abstract, unity which can be reached by\nthinking away of differences. As Dr. Martineau says, in his excellent\ncriticism of this method, 'You vainly propose an _cirenicon_ by\ncorruption of a word.' 'The disputes between science and faith can no\nmore be closed by inventing \"religions of culture\" than the boundary\nquarrels of nations by setting up neutral provinces in the air[66].'\n'A God that is merely nature, a Theism without God; a Religion\nforfeited only by the \"nil admirari\" can never reconcile the secular\nand the devout, the Pagan and the Christian mind[67].' As well might\nwe attempt to reconcile the partizans of the gold and silver shields\nby assuring them that in reality the shields were silver gilt.\n\nWe are left, then, face to face with the opposition between the\nreligious and the philosophic or scientific view of God. The\ncounter-charges of superstition and anthropomorphism on the one side,\nand of pantheism and rationalism on the other, serve to bring out the\nantithesis of the two views. No division of territory is possible.\nThere may be many sciences, each with its defined range of\nsubject-matter; but there can be only one God. And both religion and\nphilosophy demand that He shall fill the whole region of thought and\nfeeling. Nor can any confusion or extension of terms help us to a\nreconciliation, or blind us long to the true issue. The conflict is\ntoo real and too keenly felt to admit of any patched-up peace. The\nidea of God, which is to claim alike the allegiance of religion and\nphilosophy, must not be the result of compromise, but must really and\nfully satisfy the demands of both.\n\n\nIII. What then are these demands considered in abstraction from one\nanother? We are at once met by the difficulty of defining religion.\nBut if we cannot define religion, or trace it back to its hidden\nsource, we can at least discover its characteristics, as we know it\nafter it has emerged from the obscurity of prehistoric times, and\nbefore any conscious attempt has been made to reconcile religion and\nphilosophy, or find a middle term between them.\n\nNow traditional definitions of religion, given as it were from within,\nand constructed with no view of opposition to, or reconciliation with,\nphilosophy, are agreed in representing religion as a relation between\nman and the object or objects of his worship, and this implies, not\nonly the inferiority of the worshipper to that which he worships, but\nalso something of likeness between the related terms, since, as even\nStrauss allows, in our inmost nature we feel a kinship between\nourselves and that on which we depend[68]. It is quite indifferent\nwhich of the rival etymologies of the word 'religion' we adopt[69].\nS.\u00a0Augustine[70], following Lactantius, speaks of religion as 'the\nbond which binds us to One Omnipotent God.' S.\u00a0Thomas[71] adopts\nalmost unchanged the definition given by Cicero: it is 'that virtue\nwhich has to do with the worship of a higher nature known as the\nDivine.' It is not too much to say that, for the modern religious\nworld, religion implies at least the practical belief in a real and\nconscious relation between the inner life of man and an unseen Being.\nAnd whatever of mystery there may be about that unseen Being, it would\nseem as if a real relationship demands so much of likeness in the\nrelated terms, as is implied in personality.\n\nIt is here that we reach the point at which we are able to distinguish\nbetween the religious and the philosophical ideas of God. It is not\nthat religion and philosophy necessarily contradict or exclude one\nanother, but that they approach the problem with different interests.\nReligion demands a personal object, be that object one or many. It is\ncommitted to the belief in a moral relationship between God and man.\nPhilosophy demands unity, whether personal or impersonal. For\nphilosophy is nothing if it does not completely unify knowledge. And\nit seems as if each finds lacking in the other that which it values\nmost and thinks of first. The only hope, then, of reconciliation is in\nthe idea of God as personal, and yet one. So long as religion retains\na trace of polytheism or dualism, philosophy can have nothing to say\nto it. So long as philosophy has no room for a personal God, religion\nmust exclude philosophy. The whole issue of the controversy lies here.\nIf the belief in a personal God is to be called anthropomorphism,\nreligion is hopelessly anthropomorphic. With the disappearance of\nanthropomorphism in this sense, as Professor Fiske rightly sees[72],\nreligion disappears. But we cannot escape anthropomorphism, though our\nanthropomorphism may be crude or critical[73]. We do not read our full\nselves into the lower world, because we are higher than it; we do not\ntransfer to God all that belongs to our own self-consciousness,\nbecause we know that He is infinitely greater than we are. But we\nshould be wrong not to interpret Him by the highest category within\nour reach, and think of Him as self-conscious life. Christianity\nrefuses to call this anthropomorphism, though it stands or falls with\nthe belief that, in his personality, man is in the image of God. An\nanthropomorphic view of God for a Christian means heathenism or\nheresy: a theomorphic view of man is of the essence of his faith[74].\n\nThe religious idea of God may, of course, become philosophical without\nceasing to be religious. If there is to be a religion for man as a\nrational being it must become so. But there is a point beyond which,\nin its desire to include philosophy, religion cannot go. It cannot\nafford to give up its primary assumption of a moral relationship\nbetween God and man. When that point is surrendered or obscured the\nold religious terms become increasingly inapplicable, and we find\nourselves falling back more and more on their supposed philosophical\nequivalents, the 'Infinite' or the 'Absolute,' or the Universal\nSubstance, or the Eternal Consciousness, or the First Cause, or the\nOmnipresent Energy. But these terms, which metaphysicians rightly\nclaim, have no meaning for the religious consciousness, while, in\nmetaphysics proper 'God' is as much a borrowed term as 'sin' is in\nnon-religious ethics. Moral evil is 'sin' only to those who believe in\nGod; and the infinite is only 'God' to those in whom it suggests a\nsuperhuman personality with whom they are in conscious relation. Even\nwhen religion and philosophy both agree to speak of God as 'the\nInfinite,' for the one it is an adjective, for the other a\nsubstantive. The moment we abandon the idea of God as personal,\nreligion becomes merged in philosophy, and all that properly\nconstitutes religion disappears. God may exist for us still as the\nkeystone in the arch of knowledge, but He is no longer, except as a\nmetaphor, 'our Father, which is in heaven.'\n\n\nIV. Religion then, properly and strictly, and apart from extensions of\nthe term made in the interests of a reconciliation, assumes a moral\nrelationship, the relationship of personal beings, as existing between\nman and the Object of his worship. When this ceases, religion ceases:\nwhen this begins, religion begins. But of the beginnings of religion\nwe know nothing. Prehistoric history is the monopoly of those who have\na theory to defend. But we may take it as proven that it is at least\nas true that man is a religious, as that he is a rational, animal.\n'Look out for a people,' says Hume, 'entirely destitute of religion.\nIf you find them at all, be assured that they are but few degrees\nremoved from brutes[75].' Hume's statement is confirmed by the fact\nthat those who would prove that there is no innate consciousness of\nDeity are driven to appeal to the case of deaf mutes and degraded\nsavages[76]. Whether monotheism was a discovery or a recovery, whether\nit rose on the ruins of polytheism, or whether polytheism is a\ncorruption of a purer faith, is a question we need not attempt to\nsettle. Nor need we decide the priority of claim to the title of\nreligion as between nature-worship, or ancestor-worship, or\nghost-worship. The farther we go back in history the more obviously\ntrue is the charge of anthropomorphism so commonly brought against\nreligion. The natural tendency to treat the object of religion as\npersonal, exists long before any attempt is made to define the\nconditions or meaning of personality, and includes much which is\nafterwards abandoned. For religion in its earliest stages is\ninstinctive, not reasoned. It is 'naively objective.' It is little\ncareful to clear up its idea of the nature and character of its God.\nIt is still less anxious to prove His existence. It is only when\nconscience grows strong, and dares to challenge the religion which had\nbeen instinctively accepted, that men learn to see that God not only\nis, but must be, the expression of the highest known morality. It is\nonly when the light of conscious reason is turned back upon religious\nideas, that polytheism becomes not merely untrue, but impossible and\ninconceivable. What religion starts with is not any theory of the\nworld, but an unreasoned belief in a Being or beings, however\nconceived of, who shall be in a greater or less degree like the\nworshipper, but raised above him by the addition of power, if not\nomnipotence; greatness, if not infinity; wisdom, if not omniscience.\n\nBut, while implying from the first something of a moral relationship\nbetween man and the object of his worship, religion does not always\nconceive of that Object as necessarily holy or perfectly wise. There\nare religions which are both immoral and childish. They have in them\nno principle of growth, and therefore they are the opponents alike of\nmoral and intellectual progress. _Tantum relligio potuit suadere\nmalorum_ is the reflexion of Christian apologists, as well as of the\nRoman poet, on the religions of heathenism. Hence, it is argued,\n'Religion is the enemy of morals and of science. Away with it. It is a\nmere matter of feeling, which cannot and ought not to stand before the\nimperious challenge of conscience and reason.' Such a view has both\ntruth and falsehood in it. The religious idea of God must be able to\njustify itself to our moral and to our rational nature, on pain of\nceasing to exist. But religion cannot be thus shut up to one part of\nour nature, nor can one part of our nature be set against the rest.\nThere is, as Herbert Spencer is fond of pointing out[77], a kind of\nidolatry of reason in the present day. Reason has exposed many\nsuperstitions only to become itself the final object of superstition.\nMen forget that, after all, reasoning is only 're-coordinating states\nof consciousness already coordinated in certain simpler ways,' and\nthat that which is unreasoned is not always irrational. Rationality in\nman is not shut up in one air-tight compartment. 'There is no feeling\nor volition which does not contain in it an element of knowledge[78].'\nThis is the truth which Hegel has seized when he speaks of religion as\n'reason talking naively.' You can no more shut up faith to the\ncompartment of feeling than reason to the compartment of the\nintellect. Religion claims the whole man, and true religion is that\nwhich can make good its claim.\n\nThe natural history of religion, then, is the history of the process\nby which that which has its secret birthplace behind all the\ndistinctions of modern psychology, establishes its claim on man,\nabsorbing into itself all that is best and truest in his moral and\nintellectual being, as conscience and reason successively emerge into\nconscious activity: while, from another point of view, it is the\nprogressive purification of the religious idea of God till He is\nrevealed as, what He is to a thinking Christian of to-day, the Object\nof reverent worship, the moral ideal, the truth of nature and of man.\n\nSuch an end is not attained in a moment. It is the result of a process\nwith which we are familiar elsewhere, viz. evolution by antagonism.\nThe true has to be separated from the false. Immoral and irrational\nconceptions of God have to be thrown aside. It is only after what\nlooks like an internecine struggle between religion and morality that\nman learns the truth about the character of God, and only after a\nconflict with philosophy and science, which seems to threaten the very\nlife of religion, that he learns what can be known of the Divine\nNature. For among religions, too, there is a struggle for existence,\nin which the fittest survive. And the test of fitness is the power to\nassimilate and promote moral and intellectual truth, and so to satisfy\nthe whole man. An ideally perfect religion is not 'morality touched by\nemotion,' but a worship which reflects itself in the highest known\nmorality, and is interpreted and justified to itself by reason. It is\nthis process, as we know it in history, that we proceed to examine.\n\n\nV. The statement that religion, even in its most elementary forms,\ntakes for granted some relationship of likeness between the worshipper\nand the Object or objects of his worship, by no means implies that all\nreligion associates the highest morality with its idea of God. On the\ncontrary, we know that not only are there immoral religions, but that\nimmorality sometimes lingers on in religion long after it is condemned\nelsewhere, and that a people will permit as a religious duty what,\naccording to their thinking, nothing but religion would justify. We\ncannot, then, at all accurately gauge the moral condition of a people\nby the received teaching about its gods, for morality is often far in\nadvance of religion, and the character which in a god or goddess is\nprotected by a religious halo is looked upon as hateful or impure in\nman or woman. The sense of dependence, which, though it does not\nconstitute the whole, is yet an essential element in the religious\nconsciousness, the awe which, in a low state of development, shews\nitself in a grovelling fear of the invisible beings, makes it\nimpossible for the worshipper to judge his god by the standard he\napplies to his fellow man. The god may be lustful, but his lusts must\nbe respected; he is strong and vengeful and must by all means be kept\nin a good temper, cajoled, or outwitted, or bribed, or humoured. His\ncommands must be obeyed, without question or resistance. But by and\nbye the moral nature learns its strength, and begins to assert its\nindependent right to speak. Morality outgrows religion. The relations\nbetween religion and morals become more strained. Some heretic dares\nto say that the Gods are immoral; that they are men 'writ large,' and\nbad men too. Their claim to reverence is challenged. There is a moral\nawakening. Soon the old religion is treated with scorn and contempt,\nand either a new religion takes its place, coming in as it were on the\ncrest of the wave of moral reformation, or the old religion is\npurified and becomes the foster-mother of the new morality, giving to\nit a divine sanction, and receiving from it in turn new strength and\nvitality. Or failing these, men abandon religion in the supposed\ninterest of morals. A religion with mysteries may be tolerated, but a\nreligion once seen to be immoral is at an end. For a time ethics, with\na background of metaphysics or politics, prevails, but gradually it\ntends to drift into a mere prudentialism, while a merely mystical\nphilosophy tries in vain to satisfy those deeper instincts which reach\nout to the unseen.\n\nIn the history of Greek thought the collision came in the days of\nXenophanes. Long before what is sometimes called the era of conscious\nmorality, Greece had outgrown its traditional religion. Greek\nphilosophy at its birth was mythology rationalized, and the beginning\nof independent morality in Greece shewed itself in a criticism of the\nreligious teaching of Homer and Hesiod. The scathing satire of\nXenophanes reminds us at times of the way in which Isaiah speaks of\nthe idolatry of his day. It is not only wrong, it is capable of a\n_reductio ad absurdum_. Anthropomorphism, immorality, childish\nfolly--these are the charges which Xenophanes brings against the\nworship of Magna Graecia. Anaxagoras had already been banished for\nsuggesting that the god Helios was a mass of molten iron, but\nXenophanes turns into open ridicule the religion of his day.\n\n'Homer and Hesiod,' he says, 'ascribe to the gods all that among men\nis held shameful and blameworthy, theft, adultery, and deceit[79].'\n\n'One God there is mightiest among gods and men, who neither in form\nnor thought is like to men. Yet mortals think the gods are born and\nhave shape and voice and raiment like themselves. Surely if lions and\ncows had hands, and could grave with their hands and do as men do,\nthey too would make gods like themselves, horses would have horse-like\ngods, and cows gods with horns and hoofs[80].'\n\nWhen the age of moral philosophy begins, amidst the unsettlement of\nthe sophistic period, the same protest is taken up by Plato. In\nXenophanes the protest of the reason and the conscience went together.\nIn Plato the criticism of the received theology is more distinctly a\nmoral criticism. God cannot lie or deceive. He cannot be the cause of\nevil. He is good, and only the source of good. He is true in word and\ndeed. If not, we cannot reverence Him. It cannot be true that the gods\ngive way to violent emotions, still less to sensuality and envy and\nstrife[81]. 'For God cannot be unrighteous, He must be perfectly\nrighteous, and none is like Him save the most righteous among\nmen[82].'\n\nHere we have a collision between an immoral religious conception of\nGod and a morality which is becoming conscious of its own strength.\nAnd what was the result? Religion in Greece received its death blow.\nIt had no real recuperative power. It could not absorb and claim the\nnew morality. Homer and Hesiod, the 'Bible' of the Athenian, were too\nprofoundly immoral. A Kephalus might go back in silent protest to his\nsacrifice, but the youth of Athens turned from religion to morality.\nWhen we pass from Plato to Aristotle, the last trace of religion in\nmorals has disappeared. Theology has become Metaphysics, and has no\nplace in the world of practical life. The religious element has\ndisappeared from philosophy, and is only revived in the mysticism of\nNeo-Pythagoreanism and Neo-Platonism. In metaphysics and science we\nowe everything to the Greeks; in religion, as distinguished from\ntheology, we owe nothing.\n\nFrom the Greeks we turn to the Jews, to whom alone, among the nations\nof the pre-Christian age, we of the modern world trace back our\nreligious lineage. We speak of the religion of the Old Testament as\n'revealed' in contrast with all other pre-Christian religions. Is that\ndistinction tenable? If so, what does it mean, and what justifies us\nin making it? It is clear that the answer must be sought in what the\nOld Testament revelation is, rather than in the process by which the\nJews became the appointed depositaries of it. For whatever were the\nprehistoric elements out of which the religion of Israel came, whether\nAssyrian or Accadian or Indo-German or Egyptian, and whatever were the\nsteps by which Israel was led[83] to that doctrine of God which\nconstituted its mission and its message to the world, as we look back\nfrom the point of view of Christianity we see that the religion of\nIsrael stands to the teaching of Christ in a relation in which no\nPagan religion stands[84]. The Law and the Prophets were for all the\nworld 'a sacred school of the knowledge of God, and the ordering of\nthe soul[85].' If it is true that the Bible only records the later and\nmore important stages in a process which began in prehistoric times\namidst the various forms of polytheistic worship, even if it could be\nshewn that the history, as we have it, has been subjected to\nsuccessive revisions, that its laws have been codified, its ritual\nelaborated, its symbolism interpreted, it would still remain true that\nthe religion of Israel, which begins where its history begins, and of\nwhich, indeed, its history is little more than the vehicle, is bound\nup with the assertion of Monotheism. The central fact of its\nrevelation is this, 'Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is One Lord.'\nThe central utterance of its law is, 'Thou shalt have none other gods\nbut Me.' The unity of God, that truth which other religions were\nfeeling after and tending towards, stands out clearly and distinctly\nas the characteristic of the religion of Israel, and is fearlessly\nclaimed as an inheritance from the patriarchal age.\n\nAnd not less remarkable than the assertion of the unity of God is the\nassumption that this One God is a God of Righteousness. He is 'a God\nof truth and without iniquity; just and right is He.' Here, again, it\nwas not that the religion of Israel asserted what other religions\ndenied, but that Israel proclaimed clearly and with increasing\ncertainty a truth which the highest contemporary religions were\nstruggling to express. In the religion of Israel the pre-Christian\nworld rose to articulate religious utterance. Its highest and truest\nintuitions found a voice. Israel had yet much to learn and much to\nunlearn as to what true morality is. It had anthropomorphisms of\nthought and language to get rid of. It had to rise in Psalmist and\nProphet to moral heights unknown to the patriarchal age. But the\nremarkable thing is that the claim is made. Morality is claimed for\nGod: God is declared to be irrevocably on the side of what man knows\nas righteousness. And this truth is proclaimed not as a discovery but\nas a revelation from God Himself. It was this, not less than the\nproclamation of monotheism, which made the teaching of the Old\nTestament what it was. It consciously transformed the natural law of\n'might is right' into the moral truth that 'right is might.'\n\nAnd the consequences of this new departure in the religious history of\nman were far-reaching. It made the difference between the religion of\nIsrael and all other religions a difference not merely of degree but\nof kind. The worship of the Lord and the worship of the heathen gods\nbecomes not only a conflict between the true and the false in\nreligion, but between the moral and the immoral in practice. More than\nthis, it changes the mere emotional feeling of awe and dependence on\ninvisible powers into trust and confidence. If God is irrevocably on\nthe side of right, the nation or the individual, that is struggling\nfor the right, is fighting on the side of God. It was this which made\nthe great Hebrew leaders, and the Psalmists after them, take it for\ngranted that their cause was the cause of God, and that the Lord of\nHosts was with them. Even the wars of extermination were the\nexpression in act of the utter antagonism between good and evil, the\ncause of God and that of His enemies. And when Saul spared Agag it was\nfrom no excess of charity, no glimpse of a higher morality; it was an\nact of moral weakness. Finally, this claim of morality for God\nprecluded the possibility of such a collision as took place in the\nhistory of the Greeks. The progressive development of morals in the\nOld Testament, and the gradual unfolding of a perfect character[86]\nwas also for Israel a progressive revelation of the character of God.\nStep by step the religious idea advanced with moral progress. And, as\nthey advance, the contrast with other religions becomes more marked.\n'It was the final distinction between Polytheism and the religion of\nIsrael that the former emphasized power, the latter the moral element\nto which it subordinated and conjoined power[87].' And this moral\nconception of God was constantly kept before the people. If they lapse\ninto idolatry and adopt heathen practices and heathen ideas of God,\nthe prophets are ready with the warning that God is the God of Israel,\nonly because Israel is a chosen people to bear His name and His truth\nbefore the world; and if they are false to their mission, they will be\nrejected. If, again, the sacrificial system loses its moral\nsignificance as the recognition of the holiness of God and the\nsinfulness of the sinner, and the forward-pointing look towards the\ngreat moral fact of the Atonement, and becomes merely ritual, and\nperfunctory, and formal, the prophets dare to denounce even the\ndivinely ordered sacrifices as things which God hates.\n\nYet it was not that, in the religion of Israel, morality was made the\nessential thing, a nucleus of morals, as it were, with a halo of\nreligious emotion round it. It was that the religious and the moral\nconsciousness are brought together in a real unity. To love the Lord\nis to hate evil. God is One who gives His blessing to the righteous,\nwhile the ungodly and him that delighteth in wickedness doth His soul\nabhor. He, then, who would ascend into the hill of the Lord and stand\nin His holy place, must have clean hands, and a pure heart, and a\nlowly mind. The Lord God is holy. He has no pleasure in wickedness,\nneither shall any evil dwell with Him. Righteousness and judgment are\nthe habitation of His seat. The sacrifice that He loves is the\nsacrifice of righteousness. He is to be worshipped in the beauty of\nholiness. What He requires of man is that he shall do justly, and love\nmercy, and walk humbly with his God.\n\nAll this, which comes out no doubt with increasing clearness in the\nPsalms and Prophets, is already implicit in that earlier claim made by\nthe religion of Israel, that the true God is on the side of\nrighteousness, and that to be false to righteousness is to be a\ntraitor to God. In this union of religion and morality neither is\nsacrificed to the other. Each gains from its union with the other. The\nreligious idea of God, and the religious emotions which gather round\nit, are progressively purified with the growth of moral ideas; and\nmorality receives new life and strength when the moral law is seen to\nbe the unfolding of the character of a Righteous God, and moral evil\nis known as 'sin' against a Personal Being. The earnest moral protest\nwhich in Greece was directed against the national religion, is found\nin the Old Testament making common cause with the national religion\nagainst the immoral beliefs of heathenism. Hence the Jew was not\ncalled upon, as the Greek was, to choose between his religion and his\nconscience. He never felt the strain which men feel in the present\nday, when a high and pure morality seems ranged against religious\nfaith. For the Jew every advance in moral insight purified, while it\njustified, that idea of God, which he believed had come down to him\nfrom the 'Father of the Faithful.' His hope of immortality, his faith\nin the ultimate triumph of the God of Israel, were alike based upon\nthe conviction that God is a God of justice and mercy, and that the\nRighteous One could not fail His people, or suffer His holy One to see\ncorruption. Even though with the growth of morality, and the fuller\nunfolding of the character of God, there came, like a shadow cast by\nlight, the deepening consciousness of sin as the barrier between man\nand God, the Jew refused to believe that the separation was for ever.\nSin was a disease which needed healing, a bondage which called for a\ndeliverer, a state of indebtedness from which man could not free\nhimself. But Israel believed in and looked forward to, with confidence\nand hope, the Redeemer who should come to Zion and save His people\nfrom their sins.\n\nThe final revelation of Christianity came outwardly as a continuation\nand development of the religion of Israel, and claimed to be the\nfulfilment of Israel's hope. It was a 'republication' of the highest\ntruth about God which had been realized hitherto. For it came 'not to\ndestroy but to fulfil.' God is still the Eternally One, the Eternally\nRighteous. Not sacrifice but holiness, not external 'works' but inward\n'faith,' not the deeds of the law, but the righteousness which is of\nGod--this is what He requires. He is still the God of Israel. But\nIsrael according to the flesh had ceased to be the Israel of God, and\nthe children of faithful Abraham, in whom, according to the ancient\npromise, all the families of the earth should be blessed, are to be\ngathered from east and west and north and south, from circumcised and\nuncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, bond or free, and recognised as\none family under the one Father. If Christianity had been this and\nthis only, Christ might have claimed to be a great prophet, breaking\nthe silence of 400 years, restoring the ancient faith, and truly\ninterpreting and carrying forward the spirit of the ancient\nrevelation. But He claimed to be more than this. He claimed, as the\nSon of God, to be not only the true, but the only, Revealer of the\nFather. For 'no man knoweth the Father but the Son, and he to whom the\nSon shall reveal Him.' What fresh characteristics, then, has this new\nrevelation to add to the Old Testament teaching about God? He is still\nOne, the only God. He is perfect Righteousness, yet, as even the older\nreligion knew, a God of loving-kindness and tender mercy, 'Who wills\nnot the death of the sinner.' But more than all this, He is now\nrevealed to man as Infinite Love, the One Father of humanity, Whose\nonly begotten Son is Incarnate and 'made man that we may be made God.'\nNot one jot or tittle of the old revelation of God, as a God of\nRighteousness, is lost or cancelled. The moral teaching is stern and\nuncompromising as ever. God's love, which is Himself, is not the\ninvertebrate amiability, or weak good-naturedness, to which some would\nreduce it. 'The highest righteousness of the Old Testament is raised\nto the completeness of the Sermon on the Mount[88].' The New\nTestament,' it has been said, 'with all its glad tidings of mercy, is\na severe book[89].' For the goodness and the severity of God are, as\nit were, the convex and the concave in His moral nature. But what\nseized upon the imagination of mankind as the distinctive revelation\nof Christianity was the infinite love and tenderness and compassion of\nthis Righteous God for sinful man. It was this which shone out in the\ncharacter of Christ, He was Very God, with a Divine hatred of evil,\nyet living as man among men, revealing the true idea of God, and not\nonly realizing in His human life the moral ideal of man, but by taking\nhuman nature into Himself setting loose a power of moral regeneration,\nof which the world had never dreamed.\n\nThe advance which the Gospel of Christ makes upon the Old Testament\nrevelation consists then, not only in the new truth it teaches as to\nthe character of God, but in the new relation which it establishes\nbetween God and man. So soon as men learn the Old Testament truth that\nGod is eternally on the side of righteousness, the awe and cringing\nfear, which lies behind heathen religions, and justifies us in calling\nthem superstitions, gives place to trustful confidence, which deepens\ninto faith, and gathers round it those affections and desires for\nunion with God which find expression in the book of Psalms. The saints\nof the Old Testament could 'rest in the Lord' and wait for the\nvindication of His Righteousness in human life; they could yearn for\nHis presence and hope for the day when they should 'see the King in\nHis beauty.' But they were yet separated from Him by the unobliterated\nfact of sin. Enoch 'walked with God,' Abraham was called 'the friend\nof God,' Moses 'the Lord knew face to face,' David was 'a man after\nGod's own heart,' Daniel 'a man greatly beloved.' But one and all of\nthese fell short, and necessarily fell short, of the closeness of that\nunion which is the Christian's birthright. In the Gospel, God is\nrevealed as one with man. And this truth changed the whole attitude\nand atmosphere of worship. There was worship still, for humanity was\nnot merged and lost in Godhead. There is no Christian ring about the\nstatement[90] that 'in Christianity, in the consciousness that he is\npartaker of the Divine existence, man no longer sustains the relation\nof Dependence but of Love.' Rather the antithesis between dependence\nand freedom is destroyed. As perfect love casts out fear, yet leaves\nreverence, so the consciousness of union with God, as distinct from\nabsorption in Him, while it destroys the last remnant of what is\nservile and degrading in religious emotion, and gives man freedom, yet\ngives the freedom of loving dependence upon God. And by this gift it\nsets free new affections and appeals to new motives. It was the\nassured consciousness of union with God which gave the first\nChristians their power in the great moral struggles of their day.\nTheir moral ideal with its loftiness, its purity, its perfect\ntruthfulness, would by its very perfectness have paralyzed effort, had\nthey not believed that they were one with Him Who had not only\nproclaimed but realized it, that they could do all things through\nChrist which strengthened them. And the horror of sin, which was a\ncharacteristic note of Christian ethics, was due to the same fact.\nUnrighteousness, not only as under the Old Testament, ranged a man on\nthe side of the enemies of God, but according to its degree tended to\nbreak the supernatural bond which through the Incarnation united men\nwith God. Impurity, which meant so little for the civilized world of\nthe first Christian centuries, was for the Christian not defilement\nonly, but sacrilege, for his body was God's temple. The love of the\nworld was enmity against God, yet the neglect of social duties, and of\nall that is now summed up in the 'service of man,' was for the\nChristian _ipso facto_ the declaring himself outside the love of God,\njust as, conversely, the love of the brethren was the proof that he\nhad 'passed from death unto life.'\n\nThus in primitive Christianity the religious and the moral\nconsciousness were at one, as in the Old Testament, but both are now\nraised to their highest level. Free scope is given for the development\nof both, and the satisfaction of the demands of both, in Christian\nlife and Christian worship. Side by side they fought and triumphed\nover heathenism, taking up and assimilating all that was best and\ntruest in non-Christian ethics. And though Christians were long in\nlearning what manner of spirit they were of, it seemed as if a real\nconflict between religion and morals, within the area of Christianity,\nwas impossible.\n\nAnd yet again and again, in the history of Christianity, such a\nconflict has come about. Every moral reformation within the Church was\na protest of the conscience against unworthy views of God; every new\nOrder that was founded was a nursery of moral reformation. Yet every\nprotest against formalism and unreality in religion, every attack on\necclesiasticism and 'priestcraft' in the Church, or on worldliness and\nlaxity in professing Christians, owed its strength to the reassertion\nof the truth, that in the Christian idea religion and morals are\ninseparably united. The moral reformer always claimed Christianity on\nhis side, when attacking the Christianity of his day. This was\nconspicuously so in the great moral upheaval of the sixteenth century.\nIn actual fact, religion and morality had separated. And the nearer\none got to the centre of Western Christendom, the more open and\nunabashed the neglect of morality was. In Italy of the fifteenth\ncentury renaissance we see, in strange confusion, 'all that we love in\nart, and all that we loathe in man[91].' It seemed as if, as in the\nold riddle, a swarm of bees had settled in the dead lion's carcass,\nand there was sweetness instead of strength, corruption where once was\nlife. When the new century opened, Borgia was the supreme Bishop of\nthe West, and the strength of the protest of Christianity against\nimmorality may be gathered from the list of prices to be paid to the\npardoner. The devout retired from the contest into the severer\ndiscipline of the monastic life, and hoped against hope for the days\nof a _Papa angelicus_, who never came. Yet when the strained relations\nof religion and morals resulted in a revolution, it never occurred to\nthose, who had a moral reformation at heart, to say that religion was\noutgrown, and morality must henceforth take its place. They appealed\nfrom the Christianity of the sixteenth century to the Christianity of\nChrist. Even of those who, in their fear of popery, broke away\nfarthest from the Christian idea of God, all, if we except the\nAnabaptists, claimed the Bible on their side. It was a genuine moral\nrevolt against a religion which had come to tolerate immorality. The\nhatred of 'ecclesiasticism' and 'sacerdotalism' was not at first a\nrejection of the Church and the Priesthood, but a protest against\nanything which, under the sacred name of religion, becomes a cover for\nunreality, or makes sin a thing easy to be atoned for. The Reformation\nwas a moral protest, and its results were seen within as well as\noutside the Roman communion. The Council of Trent was a reforming\nCouncil; the Jesuits were the children of the Reformation; and Roman\nChristianity in the strength of its own moral revival, even in the\nmoment of defeat, became again 'a conquering power[92].'\n\nOn the other hand, those whose first impulse was a protest in favour\nof a moral religion and a belief in a God who hates iniquity, have\nbequeathed to the world a legacy of immorality, of which they never\ndreamt, and of which we, in the present day, are feeling the full\neffects. Lutheranism starts with the belief that God is love:\nCalvinism with the conception of God as power. With the former, the\ndesire, at all costs, to guard the belief in the freedom of God's\ngrace, led to a morbid fear of righteousness, as if it were somehow a\nrival to faith. With the latter, a one-sided view of the power of God\ngradually obscured the fact that righteousness and justice eternally\ncondition its exercise. If the one was, as history shews us, in\nconstant danger of Antinomian developments, the other struck at the\nroot of morality by making God Himself unjust. Forensic fictions of\nsubstitution, immoral theories of the Atonement, 'the rending asunder\nof the Trinity' and the opposing of the Divine Persons, like parties\nin a lawsuit[93], were the natural corollaries of a theory which\ntaught that God was above morality and man beneath it.\n\nHow deeply these false views of God have influenced English religious\nthought is shewn by the fact that every attack on the moral, as\ndistinguished from the intellectual position of Christianity, is\ndemonstrably an attack on that which is not Christianity, but a\nmediaeval or modern perversion of it. J. S.\u00a0Mill's well-known\nwords[94], 'I will call no being good, who is not what I mean when I\napply that epithet to my fellow creatures,' was a noble assertion of\n'immutable morality' against a religion, which alas! he mistook for\nChristianity. The conscience of to-day,--and it is a real gain that it\nshould be so,--refuses to believe that the _imprimatur_ of religion\ncan be given to that which is not good, or that God would put us to\nmoral confusion. It would rather give up religion altogether than\naccept one which will not endorse and advance our highest moral ideas.\n\nBut men do not always stop to make the necessary distinctions. On the\none side they see a traditional view of religion which they cannot\nharmonise with the highest morality; on the other, they see a\nmorality, which, though it has grown up under the shadow and shelter\nof religion, seems strong enough to stand alone. And their first\nthought is 'Away with religion. We have outgrown it. Henceforward we\nwill have morals unencumbered by religion.' What would be the effect\non the morals of a nation of thus renouncing the religious sanction it\nis not safe to predict. In individuals certainly it sometimes has\ndisastrous results. But there is one thing which those who talk about\nthe 'secularization of morals[95]' seldom take into account, and that\nis the effect on what, in contrast to morals, they call religion. The\nreligious consciousness always refuses to be treated as defunct, and\nthe religious emotions, if they no longer find their object in a God\nof Righteousness, and are no longer controlled by morality, will not\nbe satisfied with the worship of the Unknowable or of idealized\nhumanity, but will avenge themselves, as they have done again and\nagain, in superstition[96].\n\nAnd the attempt to do without religion in morals is as unphilosophical\nas it is dangerous. It is parallel to what, in the region of morality\nproper, we all recognise as a false asceticism. It is the attempt to\ncrush out, rather than to purify. When men realize the danger of\ngiving the rein to the animal passions, there are always to be found\nmoralists who will treat these passions as in themselves evil, and\nadvocate the suppression of them. And only after an antinomian revolt\nagainst that false teaching do men realize that morality is not the\ndestruction, but the purification and regulation of the passions. So\nwith religion and the religious emotions. The function of morality is\nto purify the religious idea of God, and religion and morality are\nstrong and true in proportion as each uses the help of the other. But\nneither can treat the other as subordinate. God is more than what Kant\nmakes Him, the ultimate justification of morality: morality is more\nthan what some religious people would have it, obedience to the\npositive commands of even God Himself. In experience we find them\nseparate and even opposed: ideally they are one, united not confused.\nSeparated, religion tends to become superstitious, morality to\ndegenerate into a mere prudentialism, or at least an expanded\nutilitarianism. United, religion gives to right that absolute\ncharacter which makes it defiant of consequences; morality safeguards\nthe idea of God from aught that is unworthy of the worship of moral\nbeings.\n\nAs the result of all the conflicts which have raged round the idea of\nGod so far as morals are concerned, one truth has burned itself into\nthe consciousness of both the apologists and opponents of religion, a\ntruth as old indeed as the religion of Israel, but only slowly\nrealized in the course of ages, the truth, namely, that the religious\nidea of God must claim and justify itself to the highest known\nmorality, and no amount of authority, ecclesiastical or civil, will\nmake men worship an immoral God. And already that truth has thrown\nback its light upon questions of Old Testament morality. We no longer\nsay, 'It is in the Bible, approved or allowed by God, and therefore it\nmust be right.' It was this view which, in every age, has given its\nprotection to religious wars and intolerance and persecution. But we\nlook back and see in the perspective of history how God in every age\ntakes man as he is that He may make him what he is not. We see in the\nOld Testament not only the revelation of the Righteousness of God, but\nthe record of the way in which, in spite of waywardness and\ndisobedience, He raised His people to the knowledge of the truth.\n\n\nVI. But the religious idea of God in our day, as in former ages, is\nchallenged not only by conscience, but by the speculative reason. And\nthere is a close parallelism between the two conflicts. When religion\nand morals are opposed, men naturally say, 'Give us morals; away with\nreligion.' And the answer is--True religion is moral; that which is\nnot moral is not true; and morality without religion will not only\nleave the religious consciousness unsatisfied, but fall short of its\nown true perfection. So when religion and philosophy are opposed, men\nsay once more, 'Give us reason; away with religion.' And the answer\nagain is--True religion is rational: if it excludes reason, it is\nself-condemned. And reason without religion fails of its object,\nsince, if philosophy can find no place for religion, it cannot explain\nman.\n\nBut here again nothing is gained by confusing the issue, or denying\nthe actual fact of the collision. We may say with Lacordaire, 'God is\nthe proper name of truth, as truth is the abstract name of God.' But\nit is not a matter of indifference from which point we start, whether\nwith religion we approach God first as a moral Being, or with\nphilosophy seek for Him as the truth of man and nature. The motto of\nOxford University, _Dominus Illuminatio mea_, altogether changes its\nmeaning if we read it _Illuminatio Dominus meus_. As R\u00e9ville says, 'A\nreligion may become philosophical, but no philosophy has ever founded\na religion possessing real historical power[97].' And it is a fact\npatent to the observation of all, that it is easier to make religion\nphilosophical than to make philosophy in any real sense religious. The\nreason of this is obvious. Religion is not only first in the field, it\ncovers the whole ground before either morals or science have attained\ntheir full development, or even emerged into conscious life. But when\nwe speak of philosophy, we have reached a stage in which the reason\nhas already separated itself from, and set itself over against, the\nreligious consciousness, and must either absorb religion into itself,\nin which case religion ceases to be religion, or must leave religion\noutside, though it may borrow and appropriate religious terms. If,\nthen, the idea of God is to appeal to both the religious consciousness\nand the speculative reason it must be by claiming philosophy for\nreligion, not by claiming religion for philosophy. It is from within,\nnot from without, that religion must be defended.\n\nIn Greece the traditional polytheism was challenged, as we have seen,\nat once on the side both of morals and metaphysics. To Xenophanes,\nindeed, the unity of God is even more essential than His morality, and\nthe attack on anthropomorphism is as much an attack upon the number of\nthe gods of Hesiod as upon the immoral character attributed to them.\nIn the unity, however, which Xenophanes contends for, the religious\nidea of God is so attenuated, that we hardly know whether the One God\nis a person, or an abstraction. Indeed, it is hard to see how a\nchampion of Eleaticism could consistently have held the personality of\nGod, as we understand it, without falling under his own charge of\nanthropomorphism. In Plato the same difficulty appears, only\ncomplicated or relieved by the fact that while from the moral side he\ntalks like a theist, from the metaphysical his teaching is\npantheistic. Is the 'Idea of Good' personal? Is it a God we can love\nand worship, or only a God we can talk about? Is the vision of Er a\nconcession to popular views, or the vehicle of moral and religious\ntruth? The question is hardly more easy to decide with regard to\nAristotle. The religious atmosphere, which lingers on in Plato, has\ndisappeared. What of the religious belief? Did Aristotle in any\nintelligible sense hold the personality of God? Great names are ranged\non both sides of the mediaeval controversy. Who shall decide? But\nwhether or no anything of religion survived in philosophy, it was not\nstrong enough to withstand the attack of the moral and the speculative\nreason, still less to claim these as its own. It is not on the side of\nreligion, but of speculation, that we are debtors to the Greeks.\n\nAmong the Jews, on the other hand, speculation seems hardly to have\nexisted. Religion was satisfied to make good her claim to the region\nof morals. God was One, and He was Righteous, but the mystery which\nenveloped His nature the Old Testament does not attempt to fathom.\n'Clouds and darkness are round about Him,' yet out of the thick\ndarkness comes the clear unfaltering truth that 'Righteousness and\njudgment are the habitation of His seat.' Jewish religion and Greek\nspeculation had little contact, and less kinship, till the best days\nof both were passed. But in the days of the dispersion we get the\nbeginning of the mingling of those streams which were only united\nunder the higher unity of Christianity. 'With the Jews of the East,'\nit has been said, 'rested the future of Judaism: with them of the\nWest, in a sense, that of the world. The one represented old Israel,\ngroping back into the darkness of the past; the other young Israel,\nstretching forth its hands to where the dawn of a new day was about to\nbreak[98].' The Septuagint translation threw open to the Greek world\nthe sacred books of Israel. The Apocrypha, with all its glorification\nof Judaism, was both an apology and an eirenicon[99]. It seemed as if\nin Wisdom personified might be found a middle term between the\nreligion of Israel and the philosophy of Greece, and the life of\nrighteousness might be identified with the life of true wisdom. The\nJews of Alexandria were thus willing to find a strain of truth in\nGreek philosophy, and Alexandrian Greeks were found ready 'to\nspiritualize their sensuous divinities[100].' But the result was a\ncompromise, in which the distinctive elements of each were not\nharmonized but lost. There was no fusion as yet of Jewish and Greek\nthought, only each was learning to understand the other, and\nunconsciously preparing for the higher synthesis of Christianity.\n\nWhether we think of Christ as the 'Son of Man,' or as the Revealer of\nGod, Christianity is bound to transcend national distinctions, and to\nclaim not only the whole of humanity, but the whole of man, his\nreason, no less than his heart and will. And this Christ did in a\nspecial way. He not only speaks of Himself as 'the Truth,' and as\nhaving come 'to bear witness to the Truth,' but the very complement\n(if we may say so) of His revelation of the Father was the sending\n'the Spirit of Truth,' who should teach His disciples all things. This\npossession of 'truth' is always spoken of by Christ as a future thing,\nimplicit indeed in Himself, Who is the Truth, but only to be\nexplicitly declared and brought to remembrance when the Spirit of\nTruth should come. He was to guide them 'into all truth.' 'Ye shall\nknow the truth, and the truth shall make you free.' It was inevitable,\nthen, that the question should arise,--Will this religion, which has\nbroken through the narrowness of Judaism, and yet by its belief in a\nGod of righteousness and love combated and triumphed over heathen\nimmorality, have the power to assimilate and absorb the philosophy of\nGreece? The great crisis in the world's history, as we see it, looking\nback from the security of eighteen centuries, was this:--Will\nChristianity, with all its moral triumphs, become a tributary to Greek\nphilosophy, as represented by the Schools of Alexandria, or will it\nclaim and transform the rational, as it has transformed the moral,\nprogress of humanity? The answer of Christianity is unhesitating.\nChristianity is truth, and there is only one truth. Christianity is\nwisdom, and there is only one wisdom; for the wisdom of the world is\nnot wisdom but folly. And at once the rival claim is made. Why not a\ndivision of territory? Knowledge for the philosopher; faith for the\nChristian. The Gnostics taught, as a modern philosopher teaches, that\nreligion is 'reason talking naively,' and that, good as it is for\nordinary people, the Gnostic can afford to do without it. Every one\nknows the answer of the Apostles to the insidious suggestions of\nGnosticism. To S.\u00a0Peter it is 'a damnable heresy, even denying the\nLord who bought us[101].' To S.\u00a0Paul it is the 'science falsely so\ncalled[102]' the 'knowledge which puffs up[103];' the 'wisdom of this\nworld[104].' To S.\u00a0John, Cerinthus was 'the enemy of the truth[105].'\nTo S.\u00a0Polycarp, Marcion is 'the firstborn of Satan.' It never occurred\nto the Apostles, or the Apologists after them, to retreat into the\nfastnesses of a reasonless faith. For with them faith was implicit\nknowledge, and the only knowledge that was true.\n\nIt was the collision of Christianity with Greek thought which gave\nrise to Christian theology in the strict sense of the term. Its\nnecessity was the claiming of Greek as well as Jew; its justification\nwas the belief in the presence of the Spirit of truth; its impulse the\ndesire 'to know the things which are freely given to us by God[106].'\nThe first Christians were not theologians. They were 'unlearned and\nignorant men.' When Christ preached, the common people heard Him\ngladly, the publicans and the harlots believed Him, the poor found in\nHis teaching 'good news,' and a few fishermen devoted their lives to\nHim. But the Scribes and Pharisees stood aloof; and the rationalistic\nSadducees asked Him captious questions; and the Herodians, the\nErastians of the day, tried to involve Him with the secular power. It\nwas only when challenged by an earnest, but non-religious philosophy,\nthat reason came forward, in the strength of the Spirit of truth, to\ninterpret to itself and to the world the revelation of Christ.\nReligion and theology in different ways have to do with the knowledge\nof God and of spiritual truth. They have the same object, God, but\ntheir aims and their methods are different. Religion knows God;\ntheology is concerned with the idea of God. Religion sees; theology\nthinks. Religion begins and ends in an almost instinctive attitude of\nworship; theology rationalizes and defines the characteristics of the\nObject of worship. As reason seeks to interpret feeling, so theology\ninterprets religion. It makes explicit what is implicit in religion.\n'As the intellect is cultivated and expanded, it cannot refrain from\nthe attempt to analyse the vision which influences the heart, and the\nobject in which it centres; nor does it stop till it has, in some\nsort, succeeded in expressing in words, what has all along been a\nprinciple both of the affections and of practical obedience[107].' It\ntakes the facts which the religious consciousness has seized, seeks to\nbring them into distinctness before the mental vision, to connect them\nwith one another in a coherent system, and find in them the\nexplanation and unity of all that is. Christian theology grows\nnaturally out of the Christian religion. But religion is a divine\nlife; theology a divine science.\n\nThis explains the fact that though both religion and theology have to\ndo with the knowledge of God, and ideally work in perfect harmony, yet\nthey are often found opposed. Theology is always in danger of becoming\nunreal. What is an interpretation for one age becomes 'a tongue not\nunderstanded' in the next. Hence when a revival of religious life\ncomes, it frequently shews itself in an attack on the received\ntheology. Theology is no longer regarded as the scientific expression\nof the very truths which religion values; it is conceived of as the\nantithesis of religion, and reformers dream of a new theology which\nshall be for them what, though they know it not, the old theology was\nto their predecessors, the handmaid and guardian of religious truth.\nWhen Martin Luther said that 'an old woman who reads her Bible in the\nchimney corner knows more about God than the great doctors of\ntheology,' he was emphasising the severance which, in his day, had\ncome, to exist between a religious life and theological orthodoxy. And\nwhen in his _Table Talk_ he says, 'A Jurist may be a rogue, but a\ntheologian must be a man of piety,' he touches a real truth. A hundred\nyears later, amid the confusions and unrealities of the seventeenth\ncentury, John Smith[108], the Cambridge Platonist, said the same:\n'They are not always the best skilled in divinity,' he says, 'that are\nmost studied in those pandects into which it is sometimes digested.'\n'Were I to define divinity, I should rather call it _a divine life_\nthan _a divine science_.' Technically, no doubt, he was wrong, for\ntheology is a science and not a life, but, like Luther, he was\nvindicating the truth that it is possible for quite simple people to\n_know God_, though they have no knowledge of theology, and that\ntheology, when it becomes speculative and abstract, ceases to be\ntheology. A theologian, as Mazzini says of an artist, 'must be a\nhigh-priest or a charlatan.'\n\nBut the world dislikes a high-priest, and good people dislike a\ncharlatan. And the consequence is that theology, ancient or modern, is\nattacked from two very different points of view, by those who look\nupon it as the antithesis of 'the simple Gospel,' and by those who\napproach it from the side of speculative thought. Theology claims to\nbe a divine science. Religious people attack it because it is a\nscience; philosophers because it claims to be divine. To the former,\nreligion expressed in rational terms ceases to be religion; to the\nlatter, that science is no science which claims for itself unique\nconditions. Yet S.\u00a0Paul seems to recognise both the necessity and the\nuniqueness of theology when he says to the Greeks of Corinth, 'We\nreceived not the spirit of the world, but the spirit which is of God,\nthat we might know the things that are freely given us by God.'\n\nIt is the relation of Christian theology to philosophy and science\nwith which we are specially concerned. But it is impossible to pass\nby the objection to theology which comes as it were _ab intra_ from\nthe side of religion. For if it is valid, then Christianity may as\nwell give up at once any idea of being the religion of man. Yet people\nsay, 'Why have a theology? Human reason cannot search out \"the deep\nthings of God;\" it will only put new difficulties in a brother's way;\nwhy not rest content with the words of Holy Scripture, with simple\ntruths like \"God is love,\" and simple duties like \"Love one another,\"\nand leave theology alone?' Now without denying what George Eliot calls\n'the right of the individual to general haziness,' or asserting that\nevery Christian must be a theologian, we may surely say that\nChristianity is bound to have a theology. And even individual\nChristians, if they ever grow into the manhood of reason, must have a\ntheology, or cease to be religious. The protest against theology from\nthe side of religion looks modest and charitable enough till we\nremember that religious haziness is generally, if not always, the\noutcome of moral laziness; that it implies the neglect of a duty and\nthe neglect of a gift;--the duty of realizing to the reason the\nrevelation of Christ, and the gift of the Spirit of Truth to enable us\nto do it. More than this, the protest against theology in the\ninterests of religion is irrational and suicidal. To tell a thinking\nman that he need not interpret to his reason what religion tells him\nof God, is like saying to him, 'Be religious if you will, but you need\nnot let your religion influence your conduct.' If Christianity had\nbeen content to be a moral religion, if it had abandoned its claim to\nrationality and had left Greek speculation alone, it must have\naccepted either the Gnostic division of territory, or recognised an\ninternecine conflict between religion and philosophy. And it did\nneither; but, under the guidance of the Spirit of Truth, Christian\ntheology arose and claimed the reason of the ancient world.\n\nThus as the religion of the Old Testament claims morality for God, so\nChristianity goes further and claims to hold the key to the\nintellectual problems of the world. So far as the nature of God is\nconcerned, Christianity met the intellectual difficulties of the first\ncenturies by the _Doctrine of the Trinity_.\n\nFrom time to time people make the discovery that the doctrine of the\nTrinity is older than Christianity. If the discoverer is a Christian\napologist, he usually explains that God has given anticipatory\nrevelations to men of old, and points out how they fall short of the\nrevelation of Christianity. If he is an opponent of Christianity, he\ntriumphantly claims to have unmasked the doctrine and tracked it down\nto a purely natural origin. 'People think,' says Hegel, 'that by\npronouncing a doctrine to be Neo-Platonic, they have _ipso facto_\nbanished it from Christianity[109].' Men have found the doctrine, or\nsomething like it, not only in the Old Testament but in Plato and\nNeo-Platonism, and among the Ophite Gnostics, in the Chinese\nTao-T\u00e9-Ching and the 'Three Holy Ones' of Bouddhism, in the Tri-m\u00fbrti\nof Hinduism and elsewhere. Why not? Revelation never advances for\nitself the claim which its apologists sometimes make for it, the claim\nto be something absolutely new. A truth revealed by God is never a\ntruth out of relation with previous thought. He leads men to feel\ntheir moral and intellectual needs before He satisfies either. There\nwas a preparation for Hebrew monotheism, as there was a preparation\nfor the Gospel of Christ. There was an intellectual preparation for\nthe doctrine of the Trinity, as there was a moral preparation for the\ndoctrine of the Incarnation. If the Christian doctrine of the\nIncarnation is distinguished from the _avatars_ of Hinduism, and the\nincarnations of Thibetan Lamaism, by its regenerative moral force, the\nChristian doctrine of the Trinity is no less distinguished from the\npseudo-trinities of Neo-Platonism and its modern developments by the\nfact that for eighteen centuries it has been the safeguard of a pure\nMonotheism against everything which menaces the life of religion.\n\nBut Christian theology is not 'a philosophy without assumptions.' It\ndoes not attempt to prove _sola ratione_ the doctrine of the Trinity,\nbut to shew how that which reason demands is met and satisfied by the\nChristian doctrine of God. Starting with the inheritance of faith, the\nbelief in the Divinity of Christ, and trusting in the guidance of the\nSpirit of Truth, it throws itself boldly into the rational problem,\nfights its way through every form of Unitarianism, and interprets its\nfaith to itself and to the world at large in the doctrine of the\nTriune God. Its charter is the formula of Baptism, where the\n'treasures of immediate faith are gathered up into a sentence, though\nnot yet formulated into a doctrine[110].'\n\nTo the Greek mind two things had become clear before Christianity came\ninto the world, and it would be easy to trace the steps by which the\nconclusions were reached. First, Reason, as relation-giving, seeks for\nunity in the manifoldness of which it is conscious, and will be\nsatisfied with nothing less. But Eleaticism had convincingly proved\nthat an abstract unity can explain nothing. Quite apart from questions\nof religion and morals, the Eleatic unity was metaphysically a\nfailure. Plato had seen this, and yet the 'dead hand' of Eleaticism\nrested on Platonism, and the dialogue _Parmenides_ shewed how\npowerless the Doctrine of Ideas was to evade the difficulty. Thus the\nGreeks more than 2000 years ago had realized, what is nowadays\nproclaimed, as if it were a new discovery, that an absolute unit is\nunthinkable, because, as Plato puts it in the _Philebus_, the union of\nthe one and the many is 'an everlasting quality in thought itself\nwhich never grows old in us.' The Greeks, like the Jews, had thus had\ntheir 'schoolmaster to bring them to Christ.' They had not solved, but\nthey had felt, the rational difficulty; as the Jews had felt, but had\nnot overcome, except through the Messianic hope, the separation of man\nfrom God. But as the Trinitarian doctrine took shape, Christian\nteachers realized how the Christian, as opposed to the Jewish, idea of\nGod, not only held the truth of the Divine Unity as against all\npolytheistic religions, but claimed reason on its side against all\nUnitarian theories. They did not, however, argue that it was true\nbecause it satisfied reason, but that it satisfied reason because it\nwas true.\n\nThey started, indeed, not with a metaphysical problem to be solved,\nbut with a historical fact to proclaim, the fact of the Resurrection,\nand a doctrinal truth to maintain, the Divinity of Him who rose. And\nstarting from that basis of fact revealed in Christ, they found\nthemselves in possession of an answer to difficulties which at first\nthey had not felt, and thus their belief was justified and verified in\nthe speculative region.\n\nThe truth for which they contended, which was enshrined in their\nsacred writings, was that 'the Father is God, the Son is God, and the\nHoly Ghost is God. And yet they are not three Gods, but one God.' But\nthe Fathers do not treat this doctrine merely as a revealed mystery,\nstill less as something which complicates the simple teaching of\nMonotheism, but as the condition of rationally holding the Unity of\nGod. 'The Unity which derives the Trinity out of its own self,' says\nTertullian, 'so far from being destroyed, is actually supported by\nit[111].' 'We cannot otherwise think of One God,' says Hippolytus,\n'but by truly believing in Father, and Son, and Holy Ghost[112].' 'The\nsupreme and only God,' says Lactantius, 'cannot be worshipped except\nthrough the Son. He who thinks that he worships the Father only, in\nthat he does not worship the Son also, does not worship the\nFather[113]. 'Without the Son the Father is not,' says Clement of\nAlexandria, 'for in that He is a Father He is the Father of the Son,\nand the Son is the true teacher about the Father[114].' So Origen\nargues,--If God had ever existed alone in simple unity and solitary\ngrandeur, apart from some object upon which from all eternity to pour\nforth His love, He could not have been always God. His love, His\nFatherhood, His very omnipotence would have been added in time, and\nthere would then have been a time when He was imperfect. 'The\nFatherhood of God must be coeval with His omnipotence; for it is\nthrough the Son that the Father is Almighty[115].' This was the line\nof argument afterwards developed by S.\u00a0Athanasius when he contended\nagainst the Arians that the Son was the reality or truth[116] of the\nFather, without whom the Father could not exist; and by S.\u00a0Augustine,\nwhen he argues that love implies one who loves and one who is loved,\nand love to bind them together[117]. Even one so unphilosophically\nminded as Irenaeus[118], cannot but see in the Christian doctrine of\nthe relation of the Father and the Son, the solution of the difficulty\nabout the infinity of God: 'Immensus Pater in Filio mensuratus;\nmensura Patris Filius.' While philosophy with increasing hopelessness\nwas asking, How can we have a real unity which shall be not a barren\nand dead unity, but shall include differences? Christianity, with its\ndoctrine of God, was arguing that that which was an unsolved\ncontradiction for non-Christian thought, was a necessary corollary of\nthe Christian Faith[119].\n\nThe other truth which Greek thought had realized was the immanence of\nreason in nature and in man. When Anaxagoras first declared that the\nuniverse was the work of intelligence, we are told that he seemed\n'like a sober man amongst random talkers.' But both Plato and\nAristotle accuse him of losing the truth which he had gained because\nhe made intelligence appear only on occasions in the world, dragged\nin, like a stage-god, when naturalistic explanations failed[120]. The\nconception of creation out of nothing was of course unknown to\nAnaxagoras. Intelligence is only the arranger of materials already\ngiven in a chaotic condition. With Aristotle too it is reason which\nmakes everything what it is. But the reason is in things, not outside\nthem. Nature is rational from end to end. In spite of failures and\nmistakes, due to her materials, nature does the best she can and\nalways aims at a good end[121]. She works like an artist with an ideal\nin view[122]. Only there is this marked difference,--Nature has the\nprinciple of growth within herself, while the artist is external to\nhis materials[123]. Here we have a clear and consistent statement of\nthe doctrine of immanent reason as against the Anaxagorean doctrine of\na transcendent intelligence. If we translate both into the theological\nlanguage of our own day, we should call the latter the deistic, the\nformer the pantheistic, view; or, adopting a distinction of supreme\nimportance in the history of science, we might say that we have here,\nface to face, the mechanical and the organic view of nature. Both were\nteleological, but to the one, reason was an extra-mundane cause, to\nthe other, an internal principle. It was the contrast between external\nand inner design, as we know it in Kant and Hegel; between the\nteleology of Paley and the 'wider teleology' of Darwin and Huxley and\nFiske; between the transcendent and immanent views of God, when so\nheld as to be mutually exclusive.\n\nIt is these two one-sided views which the Christian doctrine of God\nbrings together. Religion demands as the very condition of its\nexistence a God who transcends the universe; philosophy as imperiously\nrequires His immanence in nature. If either Religion denies God's\nimmanence, or Philosophy denies that He transcends the universe, there\nis an absolute antagonism between the two, which can only be ended by\nthe abandonment of one or the other. But what we find is that though\nPhilosophy (meaning by that the exercise of the speculative reason in\nabstraction from morals and religion) the more fully it realizes the\nimmanence of God, the more it tends to deny the transcendence,\nreligion not only has no quarrel with the doctrine of immanence, but\nthe higher the religion the more unreservedly it asserts this\nimmanence as a truth dear to religion itself. The religious equivalent\nfor 'immanence' is 'omnipresence,' and the omnipresence of God is a\ncorollary of a true monotheism. As long as any remains of dualism\nexist, there is a region, however small, impervious to the Divine\npower. But the Old Testament doctrine of creation, by excluding\ndualism, implies from the first, if it does not teach, the\nomnipresence of God. For the omnipotence of God underlies the doctrine\nof creation, and omnipotence involves omnipresence. Hence we find the\nPsalmists and Prophets ascribing natural processes immediately to God.\nThey know nothing of second causes. The main outlines of natural\nscience, the facts of generation and growth, are familiar enough to\nthem, yet every fact is ascribed immediately to the action of God. He\nmakes the grass to grow upon the mountains; He fashions the child in\nthe womb; He feeds the young ravens; He provides fodder for the\ncattle; He gives to all their meat in due season; when He lets His\nbreath go forth they are made; when He takes away their breath they\ndie and return to dust.\n\nThis doctrine of the omnipresence of God, as conceived by religion,\nhad however yet to be fused with the philosophical doctrine of\nimmanence. And here again the fusion was effected by the Christian\ndoctrine of God, as Trinity in Unity. The earlier Apologists concern\nthemselves first with the vindication of the Divine attributes. God's\nseparateness from the world as against Greek Pantheism, His\nomnipresence in it as against a Judaising deism. But the union of\nGod's transcendence with His immanence, and with it the fusion of the\nreligious with the philosophic idea of God, is only consciously\ncompleted by the Doctrine of the Trinity[124]. The dying words of\nPlotinus, expressing as they did the problem of his life, are said to\nhave been,--'I am striving to bring the God which is within into\nharmony with the God which is in the universe.' And the unsolved\nproblem of Neo-Platonism, which is also the unsolved problem of\nnon-Christian philosophy in our day, is met by the Christian doctrine\nof God. All and more than all that philosophy and science can demand,\nas to the immanence of reason in the universe, and the rational\ncoherence of all its parts, is included in the Christian teaching:\nnothing which religion requires as to God's separateness from the\nworld, which He has made, is left unsatisfied. The old familiar Greek\nterm \u039b\u039f\u0393\u039f\u03a3 which, from the days of Heracleitus, had meant to the\nGreek the rational unity and balance of the world, is taken up by\nS.\u00a0John, by S.\u00a0Clement, by S.\u00a0Athanasius, and given a meaning which\nthose who started from the Philonian position never reached. It is the\npersonal Word, God of God, the Only Begotten of the Father, who is one\nin the Holy Spirit with the Father. 'The Word was God.' 'By Him all\nthings were made.' 'He the All-powerful, All-holy Word of the Father\nspreads His power over all things everywhere, enlightening things seen\nand unseen, holding and binding all together in Himself. Nothing is\nleft empty of His presence, but to all things and through all,\nseverally and collectively, He is the giver and sustainer of life....\nHe, the Wisdom of God, holds the universe like a lute, and keeps all\nthings in earth and air and heaven in tune together. He it is Who\nbinding all with each, and ordering all things by His will and\npleasure, produces the perfect unity of nature, and the harmonious\nreign of law. While He abides unmoved for ever with the Father, He yet\nmoves all things by His own appointment according to the Father's\nwill[125].' The unity of nature is, thus, no longer the abstract\nmotionless simplicity of Being, which had been so powerless to explain\nthe metaphysical problems of Greece. It is the living Omnipresent\nWord, coeternal and consubstantial with the Father, and the\nphilosophical truth becomes an integral part of that Christian\ndoctrine of God, which, while it safeguarded religion and satisfied\nreason, had won its first and greatest victories in the field of\nmorals.\n\n\nVII. The Christian doctrine of God triumphed over heathen morality and\nheathen speculation neither by unreasoning protest nor by unreal\ncompromise, but by taking up into itself all that was highest and\ntruest in both. Why then is this Christian idea of God challenged in\nour day? Have we outgrown the Christian idea of God, so that it cannot\nclaim and absorb the new truths of our scientific age? If not, with\nthe lessons of the past in our mind, we may confidently ask,--What\nfuller unfolding of the revelation of Himself has God in store for us,\nto be won, as in the past, through struggle and seeming antagonism?\n\nThe fact that the Christian Theology is now openly challenged by\nreason is obvious enough. It almost seems as if, in our intellectual\nlife, we were passing through a transition analogous to that which, in\nthe moral region, issued in the Reformation. Even amongst those who\nbelieve that Christian morality is true, there are to be found those\nwho have convinced themselves that we have intellectually outgrown the\nChristian Faith. 'The only God,' we have been told lately[126], 'whom\nWestern Europeans, with a Christian ancestry of a thousand years\nbehind them, can worship, is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; or\nrather, of S.\u00a0Paul, S.\u00a0Augustine and S.\u00a0Bernard, and of the\ninnumerable \"blessed saints,\" canonized or not, who peopled the ages\nof Faith. No one wants, no one can care for, an abstract God, an\nUnknowable, an Absolute, with whom we stand in no human or\nintelligible relation.' 'God, as God,' says Feuerbach[127], 'the\ninfinite, universal, non-anthropomorphic being of the understanding,\nhas no more significance in religion than a fundamental general\nprinciple has for a special science; it is merely the ultimate point\nof support, as it were, the mathematical point of religion.' Yet it is\nassumed that this is all that remains to us, and we are left in the\nfollowing dilemma,--'An anthropomorphic God is the only God whom men\ncan worship, and also the God whom modern thought finds it\nincreasingly difficult to believe in[128].'\n\nIn such a state of things it is natural that men should turn to\npantheism as a sort of middle term between religion and philosophy,\nand even claim, for the unity of the world, the venerable name and\nassociations of God. But the remarkable thing is that in the\nnumberless attempts to attack, or defend, or find a substitute for\nTheism, the Christian, or Trinitarian, teaching about God rarely\nappears upon the scene. Devout Christians have come to think of the\ndoctrine of the Trinity, if not exactly as a distinct revelation, yet\nas a doctrine necessary for holding the divinity of Christ, without\nsacrificing the unity of God. Ordinary people take it for granted that\nTrinitarianism is a sort of extra demand made on Christian faith, and\nthat the battle must really be fought out on the Unitarian basis. If\nUnitarian theism can be defended, it will then be possible to go\nfarther and accept the doctrine of the Trinity. It is natural that\nwhen Christians take this ground, those who have ceased to be\nChristian suppose that, though Christianity is no longer tenable, they\nmay still cling to 'Theism,' and even perhaps, under cover of that\nnebulous term, make an alliance not only with Jews and Mahommedans,\nbut with at least the more religious representatives of pantheism. It\nis only our languid interest in speculation or a philistine dislike of\nmetaphysics, that makes such an unintelligent view possible.\nUnitarianism said its last word in the pre-Christian and early\nChristian period, and it failed, as it fails now, to save religion\nexcept at the cost of reason. So far from the doctrine of the Trinity\nbeing, in Mr. Gladstone's unfortunate phrase, 'the scaffolding of a\npurer theism,' non-Christian monotheism was the 'scaffolding' through\nwhich already the outlines of the future building might be seen. For\nthe modern world, the Christian doctrine of God remains as the only\nsafeguard in reason for a permanent theistic belief[129].\n\nIt is not difficult to see how it is that this truth is not more\ngenerally recognised. The doctrine of the Trinity, by which the\nChristian idea of God absorbed Greek speculation into itself, had but\nlittle _point d'appui_ in the unmetaphysical western world. It bore\nthe _imprimatur_ of the Church; it was easily deducible from the words\nof Holy Scripture; it was seen to be essential to the holding of the\ndivinity of Christ. But men forgot that the doctrine was 'addressed to\nthe reason[130];' and so its metaphysical meaning and value were\ngradually lost sight of. In the days of the mediaeval Papacy,\necclesiastical were more effective than metaphysical weapons, and\nScholasticism knew so much about the deepest mysteries of God, that it\nalmost provoked an agnostic reaction, in the interests of reverence\nand intellectual modesty. With the Reformation came the appeal to the\nletter of Holy Scripture, and the age of biblical, as contrasted with\nscientific, theology. The only scientific theology of the Reformation\nperiod was the awful and immoral system of John Calvin, rigorously\ndeduced from a one-sided truth.\n\nThen came the age of physical science. The break up of the mediaeval\nsystem of thought and life resulted in an atomism, which, if it had\nbeen more perfectly consistent with itself, would have been fatal\nalike to knowledge and society. Translated into science it appeared as\nmechanism in the Baconian and Cartesian physics: translated into\npolitics it appeared as rampant individualism, though combined by\nHobbes with Stuart absolutism. Its theory of knowledge was a crude\nempiricism; its theology unrelieved deism. God was 'throned in\nmagnificent inactivity in a remote corner of the universe,' and a\nmachinery of 'second causes' had practically taken His place. It was\neven doubted, in the deistic age, whether God's delegation of His\npower was not so absolute as to make it impossible for Him to\n'interfere' with the laws of nature. The question of miracles became\nthe burning question of the day, and the very existence of God was\nstaked on His power to interrupt or override the laws of the universe.\nMeanwhile His immanence in nature, the 'higher pantheism,' which is a\ntruth essential to true religion, as it is to true philosophy, fell\ninto the background.\n\nSlowly but surely that theory of the world has been undermined. The\none absolutely impossible conception of God, in the present day, is\nthat which represents Him as an occasional Visitor. Science had pushed\nthe deist's God farther and farther away, and at the moment when it\nseemed as if He would be thrust out altogether, Darwinism appeared,\nand, under the disguise of a foe, did the work of a friend. It has\nconferred upon philosophy and religion an inestimable benefit, by\nshewing us that we must choose between two alternatives. Either God is\neverywhere present in nature, or He is nowhere. He cannot be here and\nnot there. He cannot delegate His power to demigods called 'second\ncauses[131].' In nature everything must be His work or nothing. We\nmust frankly return to the Christian view of direct Divine agency, the\nimmanence of Divine power in nature from end to end, the belief in a\nGod in Whom not only we, but all things have their being, or we must\nbanish Him altogether. It seems as if, in the providence of God, the\nmission of modern science was to bring home to our unmetaphysical ways\nof thinking the great truth of the Divine immanence in creation, which\nis not less essential to the Christian idea of God than to a\nphilosophical view of nature. And it comes to us almost like a new\ntruth, which we cannot at once fit it in with the old.\n\nYet the conviction that the Divine immanence must be for our age, as\nfor the Athanasian age, the meeting point of the religious and\nphilosophic view of God is shewing itself in the most thoughtful minds\non both sides. Our modes of thought are becoming increasingly Greek,\nand the flood, which in our day is surging up against the traditional\nChristian view of God, is prevailingly pantheistic in tone. The\npantheism is not less pronounced because it comes as the last word of\na science of nature, for the wall which once separated physics from\nmetaphysics has given way, and positivism, when it is not the\nparalysis of reason, is but a temporary resting-place, preparatory to\na new departure. We are not surprised then, that one who, like\nProfessor Fiske, holds that 'the infinite and eternal Power that is\nmanifested in every pulsation of the universe is none other than the\nliving God,' and who vindicates the belief in a final cause because he\ncannot believe that 'the Sustainer of the universe will put us to\npermanent intellectual confusion,' should instinctively feel his\nkinship with Athanasianism, and vigorously contend against the view\nthat any part of the universe is 'Godless[132].'\n\nUnfortunately, however, the rediscovery of the truth of God's\nimmanence in nature, coming, as it has done, from the side of a\nscientific theory, which was violently assailed by the official\nguardians of the Faith, has resulted for many in the throwing aside of\nthe counter and conditioning truth, which saves religion from\npantheism. It seemed as if traditional Christianity were bound up with\nthe view that God is wholly separate from the world and not immanent\nin it. And Professor Fiske has been misled[133] into the belief that\nS.\u00a0Augustine is responsible for that false view. It is almost\nincredible to anyone, who has read any of S.\u00a0Augustine's writings,\nthat, according to this view, he has to play the _r\u00f4le_ of the\nunintelligent and unphilosophical deist, who thinks of God as 'a\ncrudely anthropomorphic Being, far removed from the universe and\naccessible only through the mediating offices of an organized\nchurch[134].' And not only is S.\u00a0Augustine represented as a deist, but\nS.\u00a0Athanasius is made a pantheist, and the supposed conflict between\nscience and religion is, we are told, really the conflict between\nAthanasian and Augustinian ideas of God[135]. Yet, as a matter of\nfact, S.\u00a0Athanasius and S.\u00a0Augustine both alike held the truths which\ndeism and pantheism exaggerate into the destruction of religion. If\nS.\u00a0Athanasius says, 'The Word of God is not contained by anything, but\nHimself contains all things.... He was in everything and was outside\nall beings, and was at rest in the Father alone[136]:' S.\u00a0Augustine\nsays, 'The same God is wholly everywhere, contained by no space, bound\nby no bonds, divisible into no parts, mutable in no part of His being,\nfilling heaven and earth by the presence of His power. Though nothing\ncan exist without Him, yet nothing is what He is[137].'\n\nThe Christian doctrine of God, in Athanasian days, triumphed where\nGreek philosophy failed. It accepted the challenge of Greek thought,\nit recognised the demands of the speculative reason, and found in\nitself the answer which, before the collision with Hellenism, it\nunconsciously possessed. It is challenged again by the metaphysics of\nour day. We may be wrong to speculate at all on the nature of God, but\nit is not less true now than in the first centuries of Christianity,\nthat, for those who do speculate, a Unitarian, or Arian, or Sabellian\ntheory is as impossible as polytheism. If God is to be Personal, as\nreligion requires, metaphysics demands still a distinction in the\nUnity which unitarianism is compelled to deny. But, further, the\nChristian doctrine of God is challenged by the science of nature.\nScience, imperiously and with increasing confidence, demands a unity\nin nature which shall be not external but immanent, giving rationality\nand coherence to all that is, and justifying the belief in the\nuniversal reign of law. But this immanence of God in nature unitarian\ntheism cannot give, save at the price of losing itself in pantheism.\nDeistic it might be, as it was in the last century; deistic it can be\nno longer, unless it defiantly rejects the truth which science is\ngiving us, and the claims which the scientific reason makes.\n\nIt remains then for Christianity to claim the new truth and meet the\nnew demands by a fearless reassertion of its doctrine of God. It has\nto bring forth out of its treasury things new and old,--the old almost\nforgotten truth of the immanence of the Word, the belief in God as\n'creation's secret force,' illuminated and confirmed as that is by the\nadvance of science, till it comes to us with all the power of a new\ndiscovery. Slowly and under the shock of controversy Christianity is\nrecovering its buried truths, and realizing the greatness of its\nrational heritage. It teaches still that God is the eternally existent\nOne, the Being on Whom we depend, and in Whom we live, the source of\nall reality and the goal to which creation moves, the Object alike of\nreligion and philosophy, the eternal Energy of the natural world, and\nthe immanent reason of the universe. It teaches that He is the\neternally Righteous One, and therefore the Judge of all, irrevocably\non the side of right, leading the world by a progressive preparation\nfor the revelation of Himself as Infinite Love in the Incarnation of\nthe Word, stimulating those desires which He alone can satisfy, the\nyearning of the heart for love, of the moral nature for righteousness,\nof the speculative reason for truth. When men had wearied themselves\nin the search for a remedy for that which separates men from God, the\nrevelation is given of Him Who 'shall save His people from their\nsins.' And when reason had wandered long, seeking for that which\nshould be Real and yet One, a God Who should satisfy alike the demands\nof religion and reason, the doctrine of the Trinity is unfolded. It\nwas the gradual revelation of God answering to the growing needs and\ncapacity of man.\n\n\nVIII. It follows from the point of view adopted in the foregoing essay\nthat there can be no proofs, in the strict sense of the word, of the\nexistence of God. Reason has for its subject-matter, the problem of\nessence, not of existence, the question, 'What is God?' not 'Is there\na God? Proof can only mean verification _\u00e0 posteriori_ of a truth\nalready held. We approach the problem with an unreasoned consciousness\nof dependence on a Being or Beings who are to us invisible. This we\ninterpret crudely, or leave uninterpreted. The belief may express\nitself in ancestor-worship, or nature-worship, or what not. But as our\nmoral and intellectual nature develops, its light is turned back upon\nthis primitive undefined belief. Conscience demands that God shall be\nmoral, and with the belief that He is, there comes confidence and\ntrust, deepening into faith and hope and love: the speculative reason\ndemands that God shall be One, the immanent unity of all that is. And\nthe doctrine of God, which is best able to satisfy each and all of\nthese demands, persists as the permanent truth of religion. But\nneither conscience nor the speculative reason can demonstrate[138]\nGod's existence. And it is always possible for men to carry their\ndistrust of that which is instinctive so far as to assume that it is\nalways false because they have found that it is not always true.\nReason cannot prove existence. The so-called proof, _a contingentia_\n(which underlies H. Spencer's argument for the existence of the\nUnknowable), is an appeal to that very consciousness of dependence\nwhich some people consider a weakness, and a thing to educate\nthemselves out of. The appeal to the _consensus gentium_ can establish\nonly the generality, not the strict universality, of religion. It will\nalways be possible to find exceptions, real or apparent, to the\ngeneral rule; while as for what is known as the _ontological_\nargument, which on principles of reason would justify the instinctive\nbelief, it requires a metaphysical training to understand it or at\nleast to feel its force. There remain, however, the two great\narguments from conscience and from nature, which are so frequently\ndiscussed in the present day.\n\nWith regard to the first, there is no doubt that the belief in God\nwill in any age find its strongest corroboration in the conscience.\nEven in the mind of a Felix the ideas of 'righteousness, temperance,\nand judgment to come' had a strange and terrifying coherence. There is\nthat much of truth in the statement that religion is founded in\n'fear.' But the argument from conscience has been weakened by being\noverstated. Conscience, as we know it, has won, not indeed its\nexistence, but the delicacy of its moral touch, and the strength of\nits 'categorical imperative,' from the assured belief in a real\nrelationship between man and a holy and loving God. When that belief\nhas ceased to exist, conscience still survives, and it is possible and\njustifiable to appeal to it as a fact which can be explained by\nreligion, but without religion must be explained away. But it is a\nmistake to suppose that we can take the untrained and undeveloped\nconscience, and argue direct from it to a righteous God. The _lumen\nnaturale_, in its lowest development, gives but a faint and flickering\ngleam. We cannot argue back from it to a God of love, or even a God of\nrighteousness, unless we interpret it in the fuller light of the\nconscience which has been trained and perfected under the growing\ninfluence of the belief. The idea of 'duty,' which is so hard to\nexplain on utilitarian grounds, is not to be found, as we know it, in\nGreek ethics. For it implies a fusion of morals with religion, as we\ncan trace it in the history of Israel, and the teaching of Christian\nethics. If it is impossible to explain duty as the result of\nassociation between the ideas of public and private advantage, it is\nno less impossible to make it an independent premise for a conclusion\nwhich is presupposed in it.\n\nThe argument from nature is closely parallel. It is hard for those,\nwhose lives have been moulded on the belief in God, the Maker of\nheaven and earth, to understand the inconclusiveness of the argument\nto those who have abandoned that belief, and start, as it were, from\noutside. Consequently it has been made to bear more than it can carry.\nNo doubt the evolution which was at first supposed to have destroyed\nteleology is found to be more saturated with teleology than the view\nwhich it superseded. And Christianity can take up the new as it did\nthe old, and find in it a confirmation of its own belief. But it is a\nconfirmation not a proof, and taken by itself is incomplete. It is a\ngreat gain to have eliminated chance, to find science declaring that\nthere must be a reason for everything, even when it cannot hazard a\nconjecture as to what the reason is. But apart from the belief of our\nmoral nature, that in the long run everything must make for\nrighteousness, that the world must be moral as well as rational, and\nthat the dramatic tendency in the evolution of the whole would be\nirrational if it had not a moral goal, the science of nature is\npowerless to carry us on to a Personal God. But the strength of a rope\nis greater than the strength of its separate strands. The arguments\nfor the existence of God are, it has been said, 'sufficient not\nresistless, convincing not compelling[139].' We can never demonstrate\nthe existence of God either from conscience or from nature. But our\nbelief in Him is attested and confirmed by both.\n\nIn this matter, the belief in God stands on the same level with the\nbelief in objective reality. Both have been explained away by\nphilosophers. Neither can be proved but by a circular argument. Both\npersist in the consciousness of mankind. Both have been purified and\nrationalized by the growth of knowledge. But the moment reason\nattempts to start without assumptions, and claims exclusive\nsovereignty over man, a paralysis of thought results. There have been,\nbefore now, philosophers who professed to begin at the beginning, and\naccept nothing till it was proved, and the result was a pure\nPyrrhonism. They could not prove the existence of an external world.\nThey believed it, even if they did not, like Hume, exult in the fact\nthat belief triumphed over demonstration, but there was no sure ground\nfor believing that the world was not a mere cerebral phenomenon,\nexcept the curiously rational coherence of its visions. Even Prof.\nHuxley, in his ultra-sceptical moods, admits this. He says[140] that\n'for any demonstration that can be given to the contrary effect, the\n\"collection of perceptions,\" which makes up our consciousness, may be\nan orderly phantasmagoria generated by the Ego, unfolding its\nsuccessive scenes on the background of the abyss of nothingness.' But\nno one, least of all a man of science, believes this to be so. He\ntakes reality for granted, and only tries to interpret it aright, i.e.\nin such a way as to make a rational unity of the facts perceived. Tell\na scientific specialist,--'I am not going to let you beg the question.\nYou must first prove that nature exists, and then I will hear about\nthe science of nature,' and he will say 'That is metaphysics,' which\nto him is probably a synonym for an intellectual waste of time. 'Look\nat nature,' he will say, 'what more do you want? If nature had been\nmerely a phantasmagoria there would have been no science of nature. Of\ncourse you must make your \"act of faith[141].\" You must believe not\nonly that nature exists, but that it is a cosmos which can be\ninterpreted, if you can only find the key. The proof that nature is\ninterpretable is that we have, at least in part, been able to\ninterpret her. There were people in John Locke's day who professed to\ndoubt their own existence, and he was content to answer them according\nto their folly. \"If anyone,\" he says[142], \"pretends to be so\nsceptical as to deny his own existence (for really to doubt of it is\nmanifestly impossible) let him, for me, enjoy his beloved happiness of\nbeing nothing, until hunger, or some other pain, convince him to the\ncontrary.\"' We do not call a scientific man unreasonable if he answers\nthus, though he is justifying his premisses by his conclusion. We know\nthat he that would study nature must believe that it is, and that it\nis a rational whole which reason can interpret. And 'he that cometh to\nGod must believe that He is, and that He is the rewarder of such as\ndiligently seek Him.' We feel our kinship with both before the\ninstinctive consciousness is justified by reason.\n\nAnd there is a remarkable parallelism in the process of verification.\nThe counterpart of the theological belief in the unity and\nomnipresence of God is the scientific belief in the unity of nature\nand the reign of law. But that belief, though implicit in the simplest\noperation of reason[143], is not consciously attained till late in the\nhistory of science. And even when it is reached, it is not at once\ngrasped in all its wealth and fulness. It is thought of as mere\nuniformity, a dull mechanical repetition of events, which is powerless\nto explain or include the rich variety of nature and the phenomena of\nlife and growth. It is to meet this difficulty that J. S.\u00a0Mill naively\nassures us that 'the course of nature is not only uniform, it is also\ninfinitely various[144].' But soon the truth is grasped, that the\nreign of law is a unity which is higher than mere uniformity, because\nit is living and not dead, and includes and transcends difference. It\nis the analogue in science to that higher and fuller view of God in\nwhich He is revealed as Trinity in Unity.\n\nBut as these parallel processes of verification go on, the truth is\nforced upon the world that religion and philosophy must either be in\ninternecine conflict, or recognise the oneness of their Object. 'We\nand the philosophers,' says S.\u00a0Clement, 'know the same God, but not in\nthe same way[145].' Philosophy and religion have both been enriched by\nwider knowledge, and as their knowledge has become deeper and fuller,\nthe adjustment of their claims has become more imperatively necessary.\nFew in our day would willingly abandon either, or deliberately\nsacrifice one to the other. Many would be ready to assent to the words\nof a Christian Father; 'when philosophy and the worship of the gods\nare so widely separated, that the professors of wisdom cannot bring us\nnear to the gods, and the priests of religion cannot give us wisdom;\nit is manifest that the one is not true wisdom, and the other is not\ntrue religion. Therefore neither is philosophy able to conceive the\ntruth, nor is religion able to justify itself. But where philosophy is\njoined by an inseparable connection with religion, both must\nnecessarily be true, because in our religion we ought to be wise, that\nis, to know the true Object and mode of worship, and in our wisdom to\nworship, that is, to realize in action what we know[146].'\n\nIt is sometimes argued,--You have let in more than the thin end of the\nwedge. You admit that 'it is the province of reason to judge of the\nmorality of the Scripture[147].' You profess no antagonism to\nhistorical and literary criticism. Under the criticism of reason,\nFetichism has given way to Polytheism, Polytheism to Monotheism, even\nMonotheism has become progressively less anthropomorphic. Why object\nto the last step in the process, and cling to the belief in a Personal\nGod? Simply because it would make the difference between a religion\npurified and a religion destroyed. The difference between the 30,000\ngods of Hesiod, and the One God of Christianity, is a measurable\ndifference: the difference between a Personal God and an impersonal\nreason is, so far as religion is concerned, infinite. For the\ntransition from Monotheism to Pantheism is made only by the surrender\nof religion, though the term 'theism' may be used to blur the line of\nseparation, and make the transition easy.\n\nReligion has, before all things, to guard the heritage of truth, the\nmoral revelation of God in Christ, to 'contend earnestly for the faith\nonce delivered to the saints,' and to trust to the promised guidance\nof the Spirit of Truth. And reason interprets religion to itself, and\nby interpreting verifies and confirms. Religion therefore claims as\nits own the new light which metaphysics and science are in our day\nthrowing upon the truth of the immanence of God: it protests only\nagainst those imperfect, because premature, syntheses, which in the\ninterests of abstract speculation, would destroy religion. It dares to\nmaintain that 'the Fountain of wisdom and religion alike is God: and\nif these two streams shall turn aside from Him, both must assuredly\nrun dry.' For human nature craves to be both religious and rational.\nAnd the life which is not both is neither.\n\n[59] Fiske, _Idea of God_, p. 139, quoting H. Spencer.\n\n[60] S.\u00a0Clem. Alex. _Strom._ I. v.\n\n[61] Cf. Herbert Spencer, _First Principles_, Pt. I.\n\n[62] See this criticism excellently stated in Caird's _Phil. of\nReligion_, pp. 32, etc.\n\n[63] _Natural Religion_, iii. p. 45, quoted by Martineau.\n\n[64] Ibid., iv. p. 74.\n\n[65] Frederic Harrison's _New Year's Address_, 1884.\n\n[66] _A Study of Religion_, vol. i. pp. 11, 12.\n\n[67] Ibid., p. 15.\n\n[68] _Old Faith and New_, \u00a7 41.\n\n[69] 'Hoc vinculo pietatis obstricti Deo et religati sumus, unde ipsa\nreligio nomen accepit, non ut Cicero interpretatus est, a relegendo,'\nLact. _Inst._ iv.\u00a028.\n\n[70] _De ver\u00e2 religione_, sub fin.\n\n[71] _Sum. Theol._ 2. 2. 81. Art. 1.\n\n[72] _Idea of God_, p. 117.\n\n[73] See Seth's _Hegelianism and Personality_, pp. 223, 224, one or\ntwo sentences from which are, almost verbatim, transferred to the\ntext.\n\n[74] Justin Martyr (_Exhort. ad Graec._, ch. xxxiv) explains the\nanthropomorphisms of polytheism as an inversion of the truth that man\nis in the image of God.\n\n[75] Hume, _Essays_, II.\u00a0425.\n\n[76] H. Spencer, _Eccl. Inst._, p. 1.\n\n[77] _Psych._ vol. ii. \u00a7\u00a7 388-391.\n\n[78] Caird, _Philosophy of Religion_, p. 162.\n\n[79] Ritter and Preller, _Hist. Phil. Graec._, 7th ed. \u00a7 82.\n\n[80] Ibid., \u00a7 83.\n\n[81] Plat. _Rep._ 377-385.\n\n[82] _Theaet._ 176 C.\n\n[83] H. Spencer, of course, follows Kuenen in assuming a polytheistic\norigin of Hebrew monotheism. See Kuenen, _Religion of Israel_, i.\u00a0223.\n\n[84] It is strange that Mr. Darwin should have failed to see that this\nwas the answer to his difficulty. It appeared to him, he tells us\n(_Autobiography_, p. 308), 'utterly incredible that if God were now to\nmake a revelation to the Hindoos, he would permit it to be connected\nwith the belief in Vishnu, Siva, &c., as Christianity is connected\nwith the Old Testament.' Incredible, no doubt. But why? For the very\nreason which makes it 'incredible' that man should be evolved directly\nfrom a fish, as Anaximander is said to have taught, and not incredible\nthat he should be evolved, as Darwin teaches, from one of the higher\nvertebrates. The very idea of development, whether in species or\nreligions, implies a law, and order in the development.\n\n[85] S.\u00a0Athan. _De Incarn._ c. xii.\n\n[86] It is needless to say that this section is largely indebted to\nDean Church's _Discipline of the Christian Character_.\n\n[87] _Edinb. Rev._, Apr. 1888, p. 512.\n\n[88] _Discipline of the Christian Character_, p. 85.\n\n[89] Ibid., p. 87.\n\n[90] Hegel, _Phil. of Hist._, p. 247, Eng. Tr.\n\n[91] _Cont. Rev._, Oct. 1878, p. 645.\n\n[92] Ranke, _Popes_, i.\u00a0395.\n\n[93] Dollinger, _The Church and the Churches_, p. 239.\n\n[94] _Examination of Sir W. Hamilton's Philosophy_, p. 103.\n\n[95] H. Spencer, _Data of Ethics_, pref.\n\n[96] See Ihne's remarks on the separation of morals and religion in\nRome at the time of the Punic wars. 'The religious cravings were not\nsatisfied, and men were carried either to the schools of Greek\nPhilosophy or to the grossest and meanest superstition.' _Hist. of\nRome_, vol. ii. pp. 477, 478.\n\n[97] _History of Religions_, p. 22.\n\n[98] Edersheim, _Life and Times_, i. p. 17.\n\n[99] See Edersheim, i. pp. 31, etc.\n\n[100] Hegel, _Philosophy of History_, p. 343, Eng. Tr.\n\n[101] 2 S.\u00a0Pet. ii.\u00a01.\n\n[102] 1 Tim. vi.\u00a020.\n\n[103] 1\u00a0Cor. viii.\u00a06.\n\n[104] 1\u00a0Cor. iii.\u00a019.\n\n[105] Euseb. iii.\u00a028.\n\n[106] 1\u00a0Cor. ii.\u00a012.\n\n[107] Newman's _Arians_, ch. ii. \u00a7 1.\n\n[108] _Natural Truth of Christianity_, \u00a7\u00a7 1, 2.\n\n[109] _Phil. of Hist._, p. 343, Eng. Tr.\n\n[110] Dorner. _Hist. of Doct._ i. pp. 362, etc.\n\n[111] _Adv. Prax._ ch. iii.\n\n[112] _Cont. Noet._ \u00a7 xiv.\n\n[113] _Inst._ iv. c.\u00a029.\n\n[114] _Strom._ v.\u00a01.\n\n[115] _De Princ._ I. ii. \u00a7 10.\n\n[116] _Adv. Arianos_ i. \u00a7 20.\n\n[117] _De Trin._ viii.\u00a010 and ix.\u00a02.\n\n[118] Iren. _Adv. Haer._ IV. iv. I.\u00a02.\n\n[119] Cf. pp. 333-336.\n\n[120] Plat. _Phaed._ 98 B. Arist. _Met._\n\n[121] p. 455\u1d4717. The references are to the Berlin edition.\n\n[122] p. 199\u1d438, 18: 415\u1d4717: 731\u1d4324.\n\n[123] p. 1070\u1d437, 1033\u1d478, 753\u1d433.\n\n[124] Dorner, _Hist. of Doct._ i. p. 366.\n\n[125] S.\u00a0Athan. _Contra Gentes_, \u00a7 42.\n\n[126] Morison's _Service of Man_, p. 48.\n\n[127] Quoted by W. S.\u00a0Lilly, _Nineteenth Century_, Aug. 1888, p. 292.\n\n[128] Morison, _Service of Man_, p. 49.\n\n[129] It is far from our purpose to undervalue the work of Dr.\nMartineau. No more earnest and vigorous, and so far as it goes, no\ntruer defence of religion has been published in our day. But his\nstrength lies mainly in his protest against what destroys religion,\nand in his uncompromising assertion of what religion, as a condition\nof its existence, demands. He has done little to shew us how these\ndemands can be rationally satisfied, how the personal God, which\nreligion demands, is even an intelligible idea. He wavers between a\nview which logically developed must result in pantheism, and a view\nimplying a distinction in the Divine nature, which carries him far in\nthe Trinitarian direction. More often he contents himself with leaving\nthe speculative question alone, or storming the rational position by\nthe forces of religion and morals. See _A Study of Religion_, vol. ii.\np. 145 compared with p. 192.\n\n[130] Newman's _Arians_, p. 84.\n\n[131] Cf. Fiske, _Idea of God_, pp. 103, 104. Martineau, _A Study of\nReligion_, ii.\u00a0172, 173.\n\n[132] _Idea of God_, cf. \u00a7 v. and pp. 105-110.\n\n[133] Apparently by Prof. Allen's _Continuity of Christian Thought_.\n\n[134] Fiske, _Idea of God_, p. 94.\n\n[135] Ibid., \u00a7 vii.\n\n[136] _De Incarn._ c.\u00a017.\n\n[137] _De Civ. Dei_, vii. c. xxx; cf. too _De Gen. ad lit._ iv. c.\u00a012;\n_Enchir. ad Laur._ c.\u00a027.\n\n[138] S.\u00a0Thoa. Aq. _Sum. Theol._ I. i. Quaest. 2, says that the\nExistence of God is demonstrable, but he explains that he does not\nmean strict demonstration, _demonstratio apodeictica_ but\n_demonstratio ab effectibus_.\n\n[139] _The Existence of God._ By Rev. R. F. Clarke, S.J., p. 6.\n\n[140] Huxley's _Hume_, p. 81.\n\n[141] 'The one act of faith in the convert to science, is the\nconfession of the universality of order and of the absolute validity,\nin all times and under all circumstances, of the law of causation.\nThis confession is an act of faith, because, by the nature of the\ncase, the truth of such propositions is not susceptible of proof.'\nHuxley in _Darwin's Life and Letters_, vol. ii. p. 200.\n\n[142] _Essay_ IV.\u00a010. \u00a7 2.\n\n[143] Cf. Green's _Works_, vol. ii. p. 284.\n\n[144] _Log._ Bk. III. ch. iii. \u00a7 2.\n\n[145] _Strom._ vi.\u00a05.\n\n[146] Lact. _Institt._ IV. iii.\n\n[147] Butler's _Analogy_, Pt. II. ch. iii. p. 183.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\n_THE PROBLEM OF PAIN._\n\nJ. R. ILLINGWORTH.\n\n\nThe problem of pain, always prominent in a sensitive age, has been\nexceptionally emphasized in the literature of modern pessimism as an\nobjection to Theism in general, and Christianity in particular. The\nexistence of pain is urged as incompatible with the belief in a God\nwho is at once omnipotent and benevolent, that is with Theism in its\nordinary form; while Christianity is further charged with being a\nreligion of pain, a religion which has increased the sum of actual,\nand the expectation of prospective pain, darkening the shadow that\nlies upon our race. Suffering is not a subject upon which anything new\ncan be said. It has long ago been probed, to the utmost limit of our\ncapacity, and remains a mystery still. But, in face of the adverse use\nnow made of it, it may be well to bear in mind how much has been said\nand is to be said upon the other side.\n\nTo begin with, there are two classes of pain, animal and human, which\nhowever intimately they may be connected must, for clearness, be\nconsidered apart. The universality of pain throughout the range of the\nanimal world, reaching back into the distant ages of geology, and\ninvolved in the very structure of the animal organism, is without\ndoubt among the most serious problems which the Theist has to face.\nBut it is a problem in dealing with which emotion is very often\nmistaken for logic. J. S.\u00a0Mill's famous indictment of nature, for\nexample, is one of the most emotional pieces of rhetoric of which a\nprofessed logician was ever guilty. When a certain class of facts is\nurged in objection to our Christian belief, we are entitled to ask how\nmany of those facts are known, and how many are only imagined. There\nis of course a scientific use of the imagination, but it is only\npermissible within the bounds of possible, or at least conceivable,\nverification. Imaginative conjectures which, from the nature of the\ncase, will never admit either of verification or disproof are poetry\nand not science, and must be treated as such in argument. With all the\nchanges that have passed over our knowledge, we may still do well to\nattend to the caution with which Butler begins his Analogy:--\n\n'One cannot but be greatly sensible how difficult it is to silence\nimagination enough to make the voice of reason even distinctly heard;\nas we are accustomed from our youth up to indulge that forward\ndelusive faculty, ever obtruding beyond its sphere; of some assistance\nindeed to apprehension, but the author of all error: as we plainly\nlose ourselves in gross and crude conceptions of things, taking for\ngranted that we are acquainted with what indeed we are wholly ignorant\nof.'\n\nThis needs repeating, because much of the popular knowledge of the day\nconsists in the acceptance of results without examination of the\nmethods of their attainment; somewhat as, in the countryman's simple\nfaith, a thing must needs be true because he has seen it in a book.\nWhile the case in point is further confused by the fact that\nimagination has an important bearing on all our conduct towards the\nlower animals, and cannot, for that purpose, be too emotionally\ndeveloped. But it is one thing to err on the safe side in practice,\nand another to convert such possible error into argument.\n\nWhat then do we really know about the suffering of animals? No\nreasonable man doubts that they suffer. But the degree and intensity\nof their suffering is almost entirely a matter of conjecture. We speak\nof, and are affected by the mass of animal suffering; but we must\nremember that it is felt distributively. No one animal suffers more\nbecause a million suffer likewise. And what we have to consider is the\namount which an individual animal suffers. We have no knowledge, but\nwe are entitled to meet conjecture by conjecture. We may fairly\nsuppose that the animals do not 'look before and after,' and it is\nthis that gives its sting to human pain. Again, they would seem like\nchildren to give strong indications of slight pain. Further, many\nmuscular contortions which simulate extreme suffering are believed on\nscientific evidence to be due to quite other causes. And then there\nare the phenomena of fascination, which may well resemble the\nexperience of Livingstone in the lion's mouth. While many pains are\nprophylactic and directly contribute to the avoidance of danger and\nmaintenance of life. All these considerations may mitigate our view of\nanimal suffering. But a stronger argument is to be drawn from our\nprofound ignorance of the whole question. Animals can perceive colours\ninvisible to us; they seem to have organs of sensation of whose nature\nwe know nothing; their instincts are far more numerous and finer than\nour own; what compensations may they not have? Again, what are they?\nHad they a past? May they not have a future? What is the relation of\ntheir consciousness to the mighty life which pulses within the\nuniverse? May not Eastern speculation about these things be nearer the\ntruth than Western science? All these questions are in the region of\nthe unknown, and the unknowable; and in face of them the Theistic\nposition is simply this. We believe, on complex and cumulative proof,\nin an omnipotent and benevolent Creator. That belief is a positive\nverdict of our reason, interpreting evidence which we consider\nirresistible. And against such a conclusion no presumption of the\nimagination, which from the nature of the case cannot possibly be\nverified, has any logical validity at all: not to mention that such\npresumptions admit of being met by as probable presumptions on the\nother side. We decline to arraign our Creator for a deed which we have\nnot even the means of knowing that He has done.\n\n'All difficulties as to how they (the animals) are to be disposed of\nare so apparently and wholly founded in our ignorance that it is\nwonderful they should be insisted upon by any but such as are weak\nenough to think they are acquainted with the whole system of\nthings.'... 'What men require is to have all difficulties cleared; and\nthis is, or at least for anything we know to the contrary it may be,\nthe same as requiring to comprehend the Divine nature, and the whole\nplan of providence from everlasting to everlasting[148].'\n\nBut with human suffering the case is different, for here we are in a\nmeasure behind the scenes. We watch the process no longer from the\noutside but from within; and though it still remains mysterious, its\nmystery is full of meaning. In saying this we make two assumptions;\nfirst, that moral evil is an ultimate fact for us, in our present\nstate of being, in the sense that it can neither be explained nor\nexplained away: and, secondly, that character and not pleasure, being,\nand not feeling, or to phrase it more generally, the greatest goodness\nof the greatest number, is the primary end of ethics. The first of\nthese assumptions most men are willing to admit, while the few\nphilosophical attempts to disprove it have conspicuously failed. The\nsecond has the assent of all moralists except the hedonists, and those\nwho without being aware of it are hedonists in disguise; the\npessimism, for example, which makes so much of pain, being simply\ndisappointed hedonism. Starting then from these premises, the problem\nof practical ethics is the formation of character in the face of moral\nevil. And in the solution of this problem pain and sorrow have a place\nwhich no other known agency conceivably could fill.\n\nTo begin with its simplest if lowest aspect, pain is a punishment; and\nwithout importing any _a priori_ notions into the question, we find\npunishment to be a necessary element in the evolution of character.\nPunishment is a complex thing, and the tendency of civilization is to\nlay stress upon its corrective rather than its vindictive aspect. But\nwe must remember that with uncivilized races this cannot be the case;\nand that pains and penalties, considered simply as retrospective\nvengeance for the past, have been historically, and in some cases\nstill are, essential to our social development. Indeed, it is a\nshallow view that regards vengeance as a survival of savagery.\nVengeance is intimately bound up with our sense of justice, and the\ntrue difference between the savage and the sage is that what the one\neagerly inflicts upon his neighbour, the other would far more\nwillingly inflict upon himself. Plato expressed this once for all when\nhe said that the sinner who is punished is happier than the sinner who\nescapes scot free. We rightly shrink, as far as possible, from sitting\nin judgment on our fellow-men; but we feel none the less that our own\nill deeds demand a penalty, which may vary from bodily suffering to\ninterior shame, but which in one form or another must be endured\nbefore we can recover our self-respect. And self-respect is a\nnecessary factor in all moral progress. Punishment, then, considered\nas vengeance, is a necessity for the social development of barbarous\nraces; and though less obviously, quite as really for the personal\nprogress of the civilized man.\n\nNow, without committing ourselves to the statement that suffering was\nintroduced into the world by sin, which is not a Christian dogma,\nthough it is often thought to be so, a vast amount of the suffering in\nthe world is obviously punishment, and punishment of a very searching\nkind. For not only are obvious vices punished with remorse, and\ndisease, and shame, but ignorance, impatience, carelessness, even\nmistakes of judgment are punished too, and that in a degree which we\nare apt to consider disproportionate; forgetful that consequences are\nGod's commentaries, and this apparent disproportion may reflect light\nupon the real magnitude of what we often are too ready to consider\ntrivial things.\n\nBut these punishments, it is urged, fall on the innocent as well as\nthe guilty. And this leads us to another point of view. Pain is not\nonly punitive. It is also corrective and purgatorial. And this again\nis a fact of ordinary experience, quite apart from the further\nconsideration of why it should be so. Among primitive races the\npenalties of law, by the merely mechanical process of forcibly\nrestraining certain actions, slowly elevate the social tone. And as\nmen rise in the scale of development and begin to be a law to\nthemselves, the same process is continued within the individual mind.\nThe pains and penalties of evil doing, physical and mental, tend to\ncorrect and purify the character; and when we say that men learn\nwisdom by experience, we mostly mean by experience of something\npainful. Of course, the most obvious form of this correction is that\nin which the suffering can be recognised by the sufferer as merited,\nbecause due to his own misdeeds. But apart from such causal\nconnection, what we call unmerited suffering exercises the same\ninfluence in an even greater measure. Its forces, not being exhausted\nin the work of neutralising past evil, are able to expand and expend\nthemselves in a positive direction, elevating, refining, dignifying\nthe character to an infinite degree. The men of sorrows are the men of\ninfluence in every walk of life. Martyrdom is the certain road to\nsuccess in any cause. Even more than knowledge, pain is power. And all\nthis because it develops the latent capacities of our being as no\nother influence can. It requires no mystic insight to see the truth of\nthis. However unable we may be to account for it, it is a fact of\neveryday experience, visible to ordinary common sense. And this being\nso, there is nothing of necessity unjust in what we call unmerited\nsuffering, not even in the sad inheritance by children of the results\nof parental sin. For while the sight of the miserable entail may, if\nrightly used, become the parent's punishment, its imposition may be\nthe child's call to higher things. True, like all other useful\nagencies, it often fails of its end; but such failure is of the\nproblem of evil, not of the problem of pain.\n\nAnd, lastly, with men, as with animals, suffering is largely\nprophylactic. Bodily pain sounds the alarm bell of disease in time for\nits removal. Mental and moral pain arrest the issues of ignorant or\nevil courses before it is too late. While the desire to remove pain\nfrom ourselves, or better still from others, is among the strongest\nincentives of the scientific discoverer, the patriot, the\nphilanthropist. And though it may seem a fallacy to credit pain with\nthe virtues which spring from the desire for its removal, common sense\nrises above logic and recognises the real value of a spur without\nwhich many of our noblest activities would cease.\n\nNow, though all these considerations naturally lead on into theology\nfor their further treatment, yet it should be noticed that they are in\nno sense exclusively theological. The penal, the corrective, the\npreventive, and the stimulating uses of pain are all recognised in the\naverage man's philosophy of life. Indeed, they are too obvious to need\ndwelling on at any length. But the point to be noticed is, that taken\ntogether, they cover a very great deal of ground. For it is hardly too\nmuch to say that in one or other of its various aspects, every human\nbeing has need of suffering for the due development of his character.\nAnd this is a fact which should go far to outweigh much brilliant\ndeclamation of the pessimists. Pessimism, in fact, stereotypes and\ngives a fictitious permanence to what is only one among our many moods\nof thought. It harps upon the fact that we naturally shrink from pain.\nIt ignores the fact that we are conscious of being the better for it,\nand unable to conceive progress without it. And though these\nconsiderations afford no solution to the speculative mystery of pain,\nthey make in the direction of a speculative solution. They do not\nexplain why pain exists, but they shew us that its existence, in the\nonly region in which we can really test it, is eminently useful, and\ntherefore consistent with providential and beneficent design. Their\nprecise logical relation to the Theistic argument might be put as\nfollows: Arguments drawn from many departments of life and thought\nconverge in favour of Theism, but one large and important department,\nthat of human suffering, blocks the way. When, however, we isolate and\nexamine that department, we find that even within its limits the\nevidence of provident purpose is prominent, if not preponderant. Its\nprominence is certainly enough to neutralize the negative bearing of\nthe department upon the general argument. Its preponderance, which\nmany if not most men would admit, carries us further and makes the net\nevidence of the whole department an affirmative contribution to\nTheism.\n\nSo far common sense carries us. But when we turn to the place of pain\nin the religions of the world, two further thoughts are suggested. In\nthe first place, the belief in a future life, which is common to\nalmost all religions, at once opens endless vistas of possibility\nbefore us. The pain which has failed to purify here, may yet purify\nhereafter; the high-handed wrong-doing, which has seemed to go\nunpunished here, may there meet with its righteous due. The pains\nwhich we have thought excessive here, may there be found to have\nworked out for us a far more exceeding weight of glory. And so the\nparticular difficulty which arises from the unequal incidence of\nearthly suffering may one day find its adequate solution. No doubt\nthere is an element of truth in the familiar taunt that belief in a\nfuture life has been a curse as well as a blessing to the world. In\nsome stages of culture, for example, the future life has been supposed\nonly to emphasize the inequalities of the present: the slave living on\nin everlasting slavery, and the warrior in incessant war. But this has\nbeen a partial and a passing phase of thought, which rapidly gave way\nbefore more ethical conceptions. The ethical conceptions in their\nturn, which were based on future rewards and punishments, confessedly\ncould not produce a very high type of morality. But they have filled\ntheir place, and that a large one in the history of human development,\nwhile even after ceasing to be the dominant motives, they still\nwitness to the ineradicable expectation of our race, that holiness and\nhappiness, sin and failure, shall one day coincide. More serious and\nsad is the fact that distorted dreams of future punishment have often\nreflected a lurid light upon the whole of life; goading zealots into\ncruelty, sinners into madness, thinkers into unbelief; and have\nlingered on, as savage survivals, even into Christian times, to the\nhopeless obscuration, in many minds, of the creed that God is Love.\nBut even here we must draw distinctions. Early races express intensity\nby an accumulation of material metaphors--fecundity by an hundred\nbreasts, omnipotence and omniscience by an hundred arms or a thousand\neyes. And so, when they saw the unrighteous man enjoy the fruits of\nhis unrighteousness, and die in unrebuked defiance of laws human and\ndivine, their sense of outraged justice could not but express itself\nin terms of material horror. We have grown to be more pitiful, more\nrefined in our moral thinking, less dogmatic about unknown things: yet\nneither our moral experience nor our Christianity has availed to\nremove the dread of that unutterable 'pain of loss,' which the passing\nof a soul in obdurate impenitence has ever suggested to the mind of\nman. And however confidently therefore we may put aside the\ndistortions, and debasements, and interested exaggerations which have\ndarkened the thought of future punishment, we must remember that the\nthought itself was no alien introduction into history; but due to the\ninstinctive craving of the human heart for justice; man's own\ntremendous verdict on his sin[149]. But the universality, or at least\nextreme generality of the belief in a continued existence, is quite\ndistinct from the particular pictures of it which the imagination has\nvariously drawn; much as the universality of conscience is distinct\nfrom its varying content among diverse races and in different ages.\nAnd the broad fact remains that from the dawn of history the majority\nof mankind have believed in and looked with confidence to a future\nlife to rectify, and therefore justify, the inequalities of earthly\nsuffering; however much their views have varied as to what should\nconstitute rectification.\n\nSecondly, there is an instinctive tendency in all religions, from the\nsavage upwards, to view pain, whether in the form of asceticism or\nsacrifice, as inseparably connected with an acceptable service of the\ngods or God. The asceticism of poor Caliban foregoing his little mess\nof whelks, and that of the Hindoo whose meritorious sufferings are\nexpected to prevail, by intrinsic right with heaven; the hideous\nholocausts of Mexico, and the paper substitutes for offerings of the\nparsimonious or hypocritical Chinee are widely different things. But\nthey all spring from a common instinct, variously distorted, yet\npersistent through all distortions, and progressively refined, till it\nculminates in the Hebrew substitution of the broken heart for the\nblood of bulls and of goats. It is the custom of some modern writers\nto represent the higher forms of sacrifice as merely survivals of the\nsavage desire to propitiate the gods by food. But this is not an\nadequate analysis even of the savage creed. Naturally enough the\nprimitive hunter, to whom food is the chief good, may think food the\nworthiest offering to the gods. But it is not simply food, but his own\nfood, that he offers, the choicest morsel, that which it costs him\nsomething to forego. In other words, the root of sacrifice is\nself-sacrifice, however crudely it may be expressed. Of course, the\nprimitive hypocrite would seek to evade personal suffering as\nnaturally as the civilized hypocrite will give alms at another man's\nexpense. But sincerity must come before hypocrisy, and the sacrificial\ninstinct is in origin sincere. Its first account of itself may be\nirrational, and its earlier manifestations often blundering and\nrepulsive; and if it were now only a survival, the same should be true\nof its later forms, for survivals are not commonly improved in the\nprocess of surviving. But so far from this being the case, it has been\nrefined by successive developments and is as integral an element of\nlater as of earlier religions, being in fact the symbolic statement\nthat a more or less painful self-surrender is the necessary condition\nof all human approach to the divine. Natural religion then, in the\nwidest use of the term, carries us on beyond common sense, in\nattributing a mysterious value to suffering here, and expecting an\nexplanation of its anomalies hereafter. The first belief may be called\nmystical, the second hypothetical, and yet the two together have done\nmore to reconcile man to his burden of sorrow than all the philosophic\ncomments on the uses of adversity; for they have seemed to lift him,\nthough blindfold, into a loftier region, where he felt himself\ninbreathing power from on high. And so here, as in other things,\nnatural religion leads on into Christianity.\n\nThe relation of Christianity to the problem of pain, may be best seen\nby contrasting it with the empirical optimism of common sense.\nEnlightened common sense, as we have seen, is fully aware of the uses\nof sorrow; but it looks at the usefulness through the sorrowfulness,\nas a compensation which should make the wise man content to bear his\npain. The change which Christianity has effected consists in the\nreversal of this view of the subject. Once for all, it has put the\nvalue before the painfulness in our thoughts. The Author and Finisher\nof our faith, 'for the joy that was set before Him, endured the Cross,\ndespising the shame,' and 'our light affliction, which is but for a\nmoment, worketh for us a far more exceeding weight of glory, while we\nlook not at the things which are seen but at the things which are\nunseen.' It bids us not wait 'till the sorrow comes with years,' but\ntake up our cross, from the first moment of our conscious\ndiscipleship. And accordingly the real Christian looks at sorrow not\nfrom without, but from within, and does not approach its speculative\ndifficulty till he is aware by experience of its practical power.\nConsequently he cannot explain himself to the merely external critic.\nHe may urge in argument such general considerations as have been\ntouched upon above, and meet the pleas of pessimism with the\ncounterpleas of philosophic optimism; but if pressed for the inner\nsecret of his own serenity, he can only answer with the esoteric\ninvitation, 'Come and see.' Enter the dim sanctuary of sorrow through\nthe shadow of the Cross. Abide there, and as your eyes grow accustomed\nto the darkness, the strange lines upon its walls which seemed at\nfirst so meaningless, will group themselves into shapes and forms of\npurposeful design.\n\nOnce for all the sinless suffering of the Cross has parted sin from\nsuffering with a clearness of distinction never before achieved. The\nintellectual Greek had tended to confuse the two as kindred forms of\nignorance; the weary Oriental as kindred consequences of our\nimprisonment in the body, 'the too too solid flesh;' the\nself-righteous Jew viewed blindness, or death from a falling tower, as\nevidence of exceptional sin. Everywhere in the ancient world the\noutlines of the two were undefined, and their true relation of\nantagonism misunderstood. But the sight of perfect sinlessness,\ncombined with perfect suffering, has cleared our view for ever. Sin\nindeed always brings suffering in its train, but the suffering we now\nsee to be of the nature of its antidote; an antidote often applied\nindeed with inexorable sternness, but in its intention wholly\nmerciful. Thus every sin has its appropriate suffering. Bodily\nindulgence brings bodily disease; cruelty ends in cowardice; pride and\nvanity in shame. And though the suffering of itself cannot convert the\nsinner, it can and does prevent both the gratification and contagion\nof the sin. Then comes the more terrible sorrow of remorse; and\nremorse is potential penitence, and penitence potential purification.\nBut while sin thus involves suffering, suffering does not involve sin.\nIt is not only an antidote, but one of those antidotes which taken in\ntime is prophylactic. And this is not only true of the pains of\nself-denial and self-sacrifice, the voluntary bearing of the cross,\nbut of many an involuntary sorrow also. Delicate health, Plato's\nbridle of Theages, inherited pain, privation, bereavement, may all\nrefine the character and train the spiritual eye to that purity of\nheart that shall see God. Pain in fact, in its manifold methods, is\nlike the angel of the Eastern story, changing its form incessantly to\ncope with the shifting shapes of sin, and passing by turns into a\nlion, a bird, a sword, a flood, a flame, in sleepless eagerness to\nfollow and find, and slay and quench and burn away the least last\nlingering particle of evil. So far from being our enemy it is our\nsafest ally in the battle of life, and we fail through shrinking from\nthe stern alliance. We suffer because we sin; but we also sin because\nwe decline to suffer.\n\nStill, the very sharpness of the severance between sin and suffering\non the Cross forces upon us the further question--Why should the\nsinless suffer? The vicarious suffering of Christ is said to conflict\nwith our sense of justice. And it does so, as misrepresented in much\npopular theology. But rightly viewed, it is the climax and complete\nexpression of the process to which we owe the entire evolution of our\nrace. The pleasures of each generation evaporate in air; it is their\npains that increase the spiritual momentum of the world. We enter into\nlife through the travail of another. We live upon the death of the\nanimals beneath us. The necessities, the comforts, the luxuries of our\nexistence are provided by the labour and sorrow of countless\nfellow-men. Our freedom, our laws, our literature, our spiritual\nsustenance have been won for us at the cost of broken hearts, and\nwearied brains, and noble lives laid down. And this is only the human\nanalogue of that transference of energy by which all life and movement\nis for ever carried on. The sun is so much the cooler by the heat it\ndaily gives to earth; the plant and tree the weaker by the force that\nhas matured their fruit; the animal generations exhausted in\ncontinuing their kind. And how should their Creator draw all men unto\nHim, but through the instrumentality of His own great law of\nsacrifice? If we shrink from our share in the conditions of the solemn\nlegacy, it is easy to persuade ourselves that the system of things is\nwrong. But if we accept it, and resolve that we too in our turn will\nspend and be spent for others, we find beneath all the superficial\nsuffering the deep truth of the benediction, 'It is more blessed to\ngive than to receive.' And in the experience of that benediction we\nsee further still into the mysterious significance of sorrow.\n\nFurther; but not yet to the end. For the human heart desires more than\nmerely to work for others. It desires to be one with those for whom it\nworks. Love is the highest form of that unity; but even short of\nactual love, we instinctively crave communion and sympathy with our\nkind. And it is no morbid view of life to say that sorrow brings about\nthis union in a way that joy does not. There is something, under our\npresent conditions, in the very expansiveness of joy which\ndissociates, while sorrow seems to weld us, like hammer strokes on\nsteel. It is the nationality whose members have together struggled for\nexistence, the soldiers who have faced the shock of battle side by\nside, the persecuted party, the husband and wife who have known common\nsuffering that are most intimately, indissolubly one. Nor is this\nunion merely negative like the bond which fellow-prisoners feel, and\nyet would eagerly escape from if they could. It is due to a distinct\nsense that the common crisis has aroused all that is highest and\nnoblest and most spiritual, and therefore most sympathetic in the\nsoul.\n\nBut again, it is only in the light from the Cross, that we can see why\npain should possess this power. For in that light we understand how\npain unites us to each other, because, as even natural religion dimly\nfelt, it unites us to God, and therefore through Him to those who in\nHim live and move and have their being. It unites us to God because it\npurifies us, because it detaches us from earth, because it quickens\nour sense of dependence, because it opens our spiritual vision, and\nabove all because He too, as man, has suffered. But the mystics who\nhave seen furthest into heavenly things have felt that it unites us to\nGod in still more vital wise, as being, at least in its form of\nsacrifice, the very beating of the heart of love. And so they have\nraised the question,--Has it not an antitype far in the illimitable\ndepths of the unseen? For we are told that God is Love; and love, as\nwe know it, must be shewn in sacrifice; though the sacrifice grows\npainless in proportion as the love is pure. And when we recall how in\nthe days of our Lord's ministry on earth, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit\nbore their witness each to other, but no one of the Holy Persons ever\nto Himself, we are led on to wonder whether 'in the light that no man\ncan approach unto,' where the Three are One, some higher analogue of\nwhat we call sacrifice does not for ever flame; whose radiant\nreflection on the universe only becomes shadow when it falls on a\nworld of sin. But however these high things may be, the simplest\nChristian feels and knows that, in his present state, the unitive way,\nthe way to union with both God and man, is the 'via dolorosa,' the way\nof the cross:--a serious and solemn belief, which is very far from\nleading to complacency, in presence of the awful spectacle of animal\nand human pain; but still is based on sufficient experience to justify\nthe hope that all its mystery will be one day solved. More than this\nwe do not expect, for the intellect, in our Christian view, is as much\non its probation and as liable to error as the will; and inordinate\ncuriosity not less misleading than inordinate desire.\n\n[148] Butler, _Analogy_.\n\n[149] Cf. pp. 514-16.\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\n_PREPARATION IN HISTORY FOR CHRIST._\n\nEDWARD S.\u00a0TALBOT.\n\n\nThe paradox of Divine mystery implied in the words 'The Word was made\nflesh,' is not exhausted by a right understanding of the Person of\nChrist. It extends to the relations between Christ and History. On the\none hand, the Incarnation of the Son of God appears as supreme,\nsolitary, unique, transcending all analogies of experience, all\nlimitations of nationality or generation, determined before the world\nwas, beyond the power of any antecedents to produce, the entry of a\nnew thing into the world. It appears, in short, as a miracle. But, on\nthe other hand, it appears as an historical event, occurring at a\nparticular date, appealing to the feelings and fulfilling the hopes of\nthe time, a climax and a new point of departure in the historical\norder. It does this, necessarily, because this is involved in the act\nof taking flesh, of entering simply, literally, naturally into the\nconditions of human life. Such a thing occurs, and must occur, in the\nnatural order. To say this is not to dictate what a Divine revelation\nmust be, but only to shew what Christianity asserts of itself. In this\nway it was good in God's sight that His revelation should come.\n\nIt follows from this, in the first place, that there must be two ways,\nboth valid and necessary, of approaching in thought and study Christ\nmanifest in the flesh. We may treat the fact of His appearing with\nlittle or no reference to historical relations, for its own inherent\nunchanging truth and meaning. We may also treat it as clothed in\nhistorical event, to be understood in its relations with what went\nbefore and followed after and stood around. The two methods supplement\none another. It may be true that the simple personal claim which the\nsolitary figure of Jesus Christ makes upon us, by its unalterable\nmoral dignity and beauty, its typical humanity, its unearthly\nauthority, is the strongest that can be made: none the less may that\nclaim be confirmed and reinforced if we see the same figure as it were\nupon an historical throne; if it should become clear that what went\nbefore (and what followed after) does, in any way, pay homage to Him;\nif the _manner_ of His appearing in place and time be calculated to\nheighten the impression which the _fact_ of it makes.\n\nAnd in the second place, it follows that to start in any historical\ntreatment of the subject of this paper from the central twofold\nassertion as to Christ, made by S.\u00a0John in the phrase 'The Word was\nmade flesh,' is to obtain at once the right clue to the lines which it\nshould follow.\n\n(1) To do so is not to beg the question or to fetter the enquiry, but\nonly to define what kind of evidence, if any, the study of Christ's\nrelation to foregoing history can yield. We see that it must be such\nas works in us the conviction that He both does, and does not, occur\n'naturally' at the time and place when He appeared; that history leads\nup to Him and prepares His way, and yet that no force of natural\nantecedents can account for Him or for His work. It is true that\nevidence for either side of this two-sided impression may have\nsufficient weight to determine faith especially with individual minds.\nThe contrast between Christ and all else in history, arresting the\nattention and suggesting the thought of special Divine presence, may\nof itself be a spring of faith: or, upon the other hand, a clear\ndiscernment of His natural supremacy in history may lead a man on to\nhigher truth. But the true evidence, as corresponding to the true and\nfull claim, will be that which suggests the conclusion with\nsimultaneous and equal force from either side.\n\n(2) If the aim is not evidence but instruction, and we desire simply\nto understand better what is true of our Lord's relation to history,\nit will still advantage us greatly to start from the same point. We\nshall be able to recognise freely and without fear of contradiction or\nconfusion, on the one side, the way in which the lines of history, of\nhuman experience, aspiration, achievement, character, need, lead up to\nChrist and issue in Him: and on the other, the unearthly and peculiar\ngreatness of Him Who spake as never man spake, Who taught as one that\nhad authority and not as the Scribes, Who was not convinced by any of\nsin: Whose daily intimacy with a disciple issued in that disciple's\nconfession, 'Thou art the Christ, the Son of the Living God.' Such a\nmethod, starting from the Christian claim, and trying to trace out all\nthat it involves, need not be only for the believer, any more than the\nquest for evidence or witness is for those only who do not believe.\nThe Christian tests the foundations, and welcomes every corroboration,\nof his faith: while, in dwelling on the character of the work and of\nits relations to all else, the non-believer may come to find the\nconviction grow upon him that it was indeed 'wrought of God.'\n\n(3) From the same point, we see at once to what double\nmisunderstanding or double attack the Gospel not only may but must be\nliable. On the one side, it may be refused a hearing as miraculous; it\nmay be understood as violating the natural order which it transcends;\nit may be regarded and resented as an anomaly in history. On the other\nside, a consideration of the aptness of its occurrence when and where\nit did occur, and of its harmonious relations to many lines of\ntendency will suggest the suspicion that it may be after all only a\nresult, though a supreme and surprising result, of historical forces.\nIn a word, it may be accused at once from separate, possibly from the\nsame, quarters as too supernatural and too natural to be what it\nclaims to be. It is all-important to notice at the outset that\nliability to this double attack is an inevitable incident of its true\ncharacter and of that which makes its glory, viz. the presence of true\nGodhead under truly human conditions.\n\nBut to return to the main point.\n\nThe importance and interest of the subject of this paper may be\ninferred, as we have seen, directly from what the Incarnation claims\nto be. But we are not left to infer it for ourselves. Nothing is\nclearer or more striking than the place which it occupied from the\noutset in the declaration of the Gospel. Jesus Himself spoke of the\nScribes of the kingdom as 'bringing forth out of their treasure things\nnew and old'; and laid it down as a first principle of His kingdom\nthat He was 'not come to destroy, but to fulfil[150].' While with\nsurprising and commanding clearness He centres men upon Himself, and\ndistinguishes Himself from all who came before Him, from 'the prophets\nand the law which prophesied until John'; He yet with evident care\ndraws the new out of the old, and fits it on to the old: He delineates\nHis own mission as a climax in a long appeal of God to Israel[151],\nand the opposition to Him and His, as a chapter of _d\u00e9nouement_ in the\nhistory of an old conflict between God and the ungodly[152]. He sees a\n'necessity' for the happening of things to fulfil what had been said\nof old[153]. The very pith of the disciples' ignorance is their\nfailure to see how the features of His work and character had been\ntraced beforehand, and the supreme teaching which they receive from\nHim is that which discloses His correspondence to the whole tenor of\nthe Scriptures of the past[154]. The teaching of the Apostles, and of\nthose who followed them, is faithful to these lines. Though they have\nto convince the world of an Event which works a revolution, which is\nto turn men from darkness to light: though their perfect confidence in\ntheir own truth makes them see the things that went before as\nelements, 'weak and beggarly elements[155],' and they have moreover\nbattles to fight against these 'elements' set up again as antagonists:\nthough their adherence to the Old Testament was an ever fruitful\nsource of difficulty and attack (of which Judaizing and Gnostic\ncontroversies are the record), yet nevertheless they unswervingly\nmaintained the inspiration of the Old Testament, and stood upon it;\nand we distinguish without hesitation as their normal, primary,\ncharacteristic method that of appeal to the correspondence between\ntheir Gospel and every hope and word of Israel's faith: the\n'revelation of the mystery ... is ... by the scriptures of the\nprophets ... made known to all nations[156].' The Hebrews who\nwistfully look back to their temple, law, and ritual, are not taught a\nstern forgetfulness of what had been, nor led vaguely to spiritualize\nits meaning, but are led to recognise in each part of the ancient\nsystem a line which leads up to Christ. Finally, the disciple who sets\nthe true being of his Master in monumental and awful splendour as the\nWord who 'was with God and was God' now made manifest in the flesh, in\nthe same breath carries us to the very core and source of all that can\nbe implied in preparation by declaring the same Word to have been 'in\nthe world' before, to have been the author of all things, and the\nunseen light of men[157].\n\nThe relation of Christ to history, or the preparation for the Gospel,\nis then no afterthought of our own or any recent time. It was\nAugustine's saying that Christianity was as old as the world[158]: and\nTertullian's (one of almost venturesome boldness) that in the previous\nhistory Christ was schooling Himself for incarnation[159]. But it is\nnot difficult to see that our own time is one which is specially\nfitted to appreciate and handle this aspect of the Christian truth.\nOur cultivation of the historical method, our historical realism or\nsense of the relation of persons or events to historical setting, our\nrecognition of the part played in forming structure, function,\ncharacter, by gradual process, by heredity, by evolution, our\ndeveloped understanding of the links by which the parts and\nsuccessions in all nature, and not least in what is human, are bound\ntogether--all these go to form a habit of mind which in presence of\nsuch a Revelation as that of the Gospel will at once busy itself,\nwhether for satisfaction, for edification, for controversy, or for\ninterpretation, with the relation of the Truth to the world into which\nit came, to all from amongst which it sprung. In such a time it is\nnatural that attack should try to shew that facts which historical\ncriticism has done much to secure, and a Life which it has become\nimpossible to treat as a myth, are simply explicable according to the\nnatural laws of historical causation. It is natural that Christianity\nshould be explained as the flower and bloom of Judaism, or as sprung\nfrom the fusion of Greek and Jewish influences in a Galilean medium.\nSuch explanations may not be new, but they are urged with new\nresources and a more subtle ingenuity. They have the advantage of\nbeing the sort of explanations which are naturally most congenial to\nthe time. But out of the very stress of such attacks may come a\nspecial corroboration of Christian truth. The experiment is crucial:\nit can hardly be expected that attack of this kind can ever command\ngreater skill and resource than it does at present. If therefore it\nshould be proved to fail: if we are able to look men in the face and\nask whether when all allowance is made for the subtle 'chemistries' of\nhistory and for the paradoxical way in which historical results spring\nfrom what precedes them, it is possible to think that Jesus Christ and\nHis religion were a mere growth from antecedents--then we have here\nthe prospect of such a confirmation of faith as no age less\nhistorically scientific could, in that kind, give and receive.\n\nBut this negative result, great as its value may be, can only be part\nof what Christian science may yield in this sphere for the elucidation\nand support of faith. It should surely be able to display with greater\nbreadth and delicacy than ever before that correspondence between the\nRevelation of Christ and what went before it, which was of old\nindicated by saying that Christ came in the 'fulness of the time.' It\nshould be able to enhance, and not (as men fear) to impair, the\nevidence of a Divine presence and influence, preparing for that which\nwas to come, moulding the plastic material of history for a 'far-off\nDivine event.' It may seem as if this was not so. It may seem, for\nexample, as if the severity and activity of historical and linguistic\ncriticism had dimmed the clearness of those correspondences between\nprophetic utterances spoken centuries before Christ and the points in\nHim or His work whereby they were fulfilled, which were once so clear.\nIt may seem, it is evidently true, that stricter canons of\ninterpretation forbid for us that unbounded use of the happy expedient\nof allegory which could make everything in the Old Testament speak of\nChrist. But even if this were so (and with regard to prophecies we\nonly partially grant it), is there no countervailing gain to reckon?\nThe hand of God may be seen in what is marvellous, startling,\nexceptional, unexplained. Can it not be seen as distinctly and as\npersuasively in what is orderly, steadfast, intelligible, and where\nour reason, made in God's likeness, can follow along in some degree\nwith the how and the why of His working? It was Christ's will to give\nspecial signs, yet the curiosity which 'sought after a sign' was not\nhonoured by Christ like that wisdom which 'discerned the signs of the\ntimes,' and so could see the force of the special signs that were\ngiven because it saw them in their true moral and spiritual\ncontext[160]. Have we any reason to hope that our time may be suffered\nto do (and even be doing) something for the interpretation of the\nwitness of history to Christ which has not been done before, and which\nis even an advance upon what has been done? Let us consider for a\nmoment (in order to answer this question) what it is which specially\nengrosses the interest and admiration of all of us in the different\nbranches of modern study and enquiry. It is the beauty of _process_.\nThe practical men among us watch process in its mechanical forms as\ncontrived by invention. The naturalists and the men of science have to\nan extraordinary extent developed our perception of it in nature: they\nshew us its range, and its incredible delicacy, flexibility, and\nintricacy; they shew us its enormous patience in the unceasing yet\nage-long movements which by microscopic or less than microscopic\nchanges accumulate the coal, or lessen the mountain; they shew us the\nwonderful power of adaptation by which it accommodates itself to\nsurroundings, and appropriates and transforms them to its need. The\nembryologist developes its wonders as it makes 'the bones to grow in\nthe womb of her that is with child.' And the historians in their\nsphere do the like: it is for them, if not the beginning and end of\ntheir work, at least the most powerful of their methods, to shew the\nprocesses by which institutions, customs, opinions, rise and decline;\nto arrange the facts so as to display on their chart the steps of\ngrowth, the stages of decay; to shew influences blending to form\nevents, and parting again to destroy or re-shape them.\n\nThere is beauty in all this, more than we can, perhaps, altogether\nanalyse or explain. As living beings we sympathise with the life and\nmovement of it all (or, as in the case of intricate machinery, with\nthe imitation of life) compared with what stands stark, solid,\nunchanging; as intelligent beings we revel and delight in its\nintricacy, and, further, we are gratified by the way in which it\nsubdues with explanation what would be anomalous, abrupt, motiveless,\nin the way of change or event. It gives us something like the pleasure\nwhich we take in the beauty of the exquisite subtle curves and shaded\nsurfaces of a Raphael figure compared with the rough outline of a\nD\u00fcrer woodcut. But we could not long rest in the admiration of mere\nprocess, whether delicate or colossal. There is a rational element\npresent in, or controlling, our sense of beauty, which asks whence and\nwhither, which demands unity in detail; and this finds altogether new\nand delightful gratification when it can see a relation, a meaning, a\ngrouping, a symmetry, of which processes are the ministers and\ninstruments.\n\nIt is, then, this idea of beauty in process that we bring with us as\nwe approach to behold the facts and method of God's Redemptive Work.\nIt is altogether too strong in us to be left behind as we cross the\nthreshold of this region; it is too much connected with all our\nthinking and experience. It is very possible that there may be\nexaggeration about it in us: and it is indispensable for us to\nrecognise this, 'le d\u00e9faut de notre qualit\u00e9.' But all the same we\ncannot disown, though we must control, what is so specially our own.\nAnd if our love of process is prepared to be critical, it is also\nprepared to be gratified: and there is opened a prospect of fresh\nwitness to the truth of the unchanging Gospel, if it should be found\nthat its introduction into this world is ushered in by all the beauty\nof process, with all the grandeur of slow unhasting preparation, the\nsurprises of gradual transformation, the delicacies of combination,\nwhich process allows.\n\nSuch a sight is much more than wonderful, and has in it, if our ideas\nof what is Divine are not very narrow, much more evidence of God's\nhand than any mere wonder can have. But it is as wonderful as anything\ncan be. And if we still plead that our sense of wonder stipulates for\nexceptionalness, it has its own way of satisfying this--the way of\nuniqueness. For those features which we admire in process are capable,\nif combined with a certain degree of grandeur, completeness, and\nparticularity, of conveying to us the impression of a unique thing. We\nmay dismiss as a dialectical refinement the objection which has been\nmade that, as is doubtless true, 'everything is unique.' None the\nless, there is a meaning in our ordinary language when it applies the\nepithet 'unique' to certain persons, classes, or things. A man of\nscience may properly speak of a certain uniqueness in the way in which\nnatural conditions are combined so as to make life possible: a\nhistorian will certainly miss truth if he does not recognise a special\nuniqueness in certain historical epoch-making moments. In proportion\nas we believe in Mind ordering the things of nature and history, such\nuniqueness will have speaking significance. And as uniqueness has its\ndegrees, and rises according to the scale, quantity, character and\ncompleteness, of that which goes to make it up, so its significance\nwill rise proportionately, until at last, arriving at uniqueness,\nwhich seems to us absolute, we gain evidence that there is before us a\nSupreme Thing, a true centre to the world. The evidence is not indeed\ndemonstrative, but it is in a high degree corroborative, and it is the\nhighest which history can offer. It is this evidence of uniqueness\nwhich, as it seems to me, we of the present day may with special\nfitness seek, and shall with special welcome find:\n\n(1) in the shaping of world-history towards the Christian era,\n\n(2) in the special preparation of the Jewish nation.\n\nWithin the compass of a paper like the present, it is impossible to do\nmore than indicate the lines which, even without any high degree of\nspecial education, a Christian's thought may travel in tracing the\nDivine work of preparation and witness.\n\n\nI. In the first part of our enquiry the distinction between an outward\nand an inward working suggests itself as convenient, though\nnecessarily imperfect: the one consisting in a moulding of the\nmaterial facts of history, such as the geographical distribution of\npeoples, and the political and social order; the other in a like use\nof the changes in thought, feeling, and the like.\n\n(1) It can never be altogether too hackneyed to dwell on the strange\nvalue to the world's history of the two peninsulas which we know as\nGreece and Italy, thrust out into that Mediterranean Sea, which was\nitself so remarkable as a centre and 'medium' of the western world,\nbinding its many nations together. They share with other lands of the\ntemperate zone all its possibilities of hardy and vigorous life: but,\nbesides this, their sky and sea, their conveniences and difficulties,\nhad a special stimulus to give to their early inhabitants. They were\nextraordinarily well suited to be the seed-plots of civilization. And\nthese seed-plots were aptly fertilized, first by the Phoenicians,\nthose carrier-birds of antiquity dropping seed along the Mediterranean\ncoasts: and then by the happy contact between Greece and the other\nGreece opposite, to which the island bridges of the Aegean linked it,\nwhere, on the narrow strip of coast plain and rich river valley\nbetween the sea and the high plateaus of Asia Minor, the Ionians\nenjoyed, as Herodotus says[161], the fairest climate in the world.\nUpon this debouched, with the rivers from the interior, the highways\nalong which travelled westward the civilization or the power of the\ndimly known but highly important early Phrygian monarchy, or from yet\nfarther east, of the mighty Assyria. The recent discoveries of Prof.\nRamsay and others re-interpret and emphasize to us this early\nconnection between the Asian lands and Greece in Europe, of which the\nLion Gate of Mycenae is a monument. What Greece thus took with her\nleft hand she could pass across with her right to yet another Greece,\n'Great Greece,' in Sicily and Southern Italy. But we may easily fail\nto recognise how much all this delicate and tender growth depended on\nfavourable circumstance, and we cannot too carefully mark how space\nwas made awhile for it to spring. The 'hills stood about' both\npeninsulas on the North to shelter them from intrusion: but this\nbarrier, sufficient for ordinary times, would hardly have resisted the\nheavy thrust of the later pressure of population from the East and\nNorth-East, which, when it did begin, so nearly crushed Rome, and\nwhich, if it had come earlier, might have easily stifled Greek and\nRoman civilization in the cradle. The reader of the Persian Wars will\nwatch almost with awe within how little Greece came of what appeared\nalike to Asiatic and Greek a certain subjection to the Persian. A\ndifference of twenty years earlier, the chance of a different temper\nin the little Athenian people, the use by Darius of the methods of\nXerxes, would, humanly speaking, have decided the other way the fate\nof western civilization. It is easier again to admire than to explain\nthe happy fortune which brought the mountain kingdom of Macedon to its\nmoment of aggression just too late to hurt the flowering and fruitage\nof Greece, just in time to carry its seed broadcast over Eastern,\nSyrian, and Egyptian lands. From all the sequence of the Graeco-Roman\nhistory which follows, and in which nothing is more important to all\nthe purposes of Providence than the simple fact of the order of these\ntwo, Greek first, Roman second, we can here select only one feature of\ncapital importance, viz. the transformation of a world intensely\nlocalized and sub-divided into one as singularly united and\nhomogeneous. Follow S.\u00a0Paul and see his circuits, watch him claiming\nthe safeguard of the same Roman citizenship in the Macedonian town and\nin the capital of Palestine, laying hold at Caesarea on the horns of a\ncentral tribunal of justice at Rome, borne thither by the sails of the\ncarrying trade in the 'ship of Alexandria,' meditating a journey into\nSpain, numbering among his Roman converts, as seems probable, one who\nhad a direct connection with Roman Britain, writing in the same Greek\nto Rome and to the highlanders of Galatia, never crossed in his\njourneys by any track of war, never stopped by any challenge of\nfrontier or custom-house: these are so many object-lessons to shew\nwhat the 'Pax Romana' and the Roman unity of power and organization\nimported for the growth of a world-religion. This was the time when it\ncould be complained that it was impossible to flee from the Caesar's\nwrath because the Caesar owned the world. And to make the impression\nmore distinct, let the eye travel backward a little, or forward a\nlittle: backward into the second or even the first century B.C., when\nthis same Mediterranean world was still in greater part an\nunconsolidated chaos of political d\u00e9bris; when the tumult of the\nMacedonian and Syrian wars of Rome and then of her desolating civil\nstrife filled the world with noise and occupied its thought and\ndestroyed its peace; when the sea was impassable because of pirates,\nand when the West was still in great part unsubdued and formidable\nbarbarism: or forward, across the space during which the Gospel had\nspread its influence and struck its roots and won its power, to the\ntime so soon following, when the lands that had known no war were\nagain traversed by the armies of rival emperors, and the barbarians\nbegan to dismember the West, and the gloom of a great fear preoccupied\nmen's hearts. To say nothing of the middle ages, what unity of the\nMediterranean world and the lands affiliated to it has the whole of\nlater history got to shew, that can compare for a moment with the\nunity of the early Empire, focussed in its cosmopolitan capital Rome?\n\nAnd in this there is much more than a mechanical provision for the\nprogress of a world-religion. It is not merely that its heralds find a\ncomplete facility of communication, peaceful conditions, and a 'lingua\nfranca' ready for their use. We must realize how the unity had been\nobtained. It had been by pulverizing separate nationalities, separate\npatriotisms, separate religions; by destroying or leaving only in a\nmunicipal form the centres round which human energy and loyalty had\nbeen wont to gather. Thus the world had been turned into that 'cold\nand icy plain' of which M. Renan speaks. And it is not too much to say\nthat this process had destroyed just so many barriers to the entrance\nof Christianity. We have only to realize what had been previously the\nuniversal character of the worships of the western world, viz. that\nthey had been local, the common and exclusive possession of the\ncitizens of one place or state, and inextricably bound up with the\nbeing and welfare of that particular community. Such religions, and\npeople bred under them, would have met Christianity, not so much with\ncriticism of its doctrines, or with rival doctrines of their own, as\nwith ideas and a frame of mind so alien to a spiritual and universal\nreligion like the Gospel that it would have found no foothold in\nattacking them. Conceive the force with which what even in the second\ncentury after Christ the heathen objector urged, 'it is not creditable\nto alter the customs handed down to us from our fathers[162],' would\nhave come from the Roman of the earlier Republic, or the Greek of the\ntimes of freedom. Nay, we may without rashness hazard the conjecture\nthat had it been possible for the Gospel to overcome these conditions\nit would have done so prematurely and with loss: that they were in\ntheir time and place ministers of good: that they were bound up with\nthat vigorous energy of development within one small limited horizon,\nby which, as we shall see, the preparation of the heathen world was\ncarried out.\n\nIt was the negative aid of the Empire to Christianity that it\ndestroyed these. But it lent more positive help. It created a demand,\nor at least a need, for a universal religion. Of this there are\nseveral proofs. The religious phenomena of the time other than\nChristianity supply the first. There is an attempt, or more than one\nattempt, to provide such a religion. There is the attempt by way of\ncomprehension, of making all the gods live together as joint\ninhabitants of a common Pantheon. There is the attempt by way of\nconstruction, in the worship of the one Power about which there was no\ndoubt, the Goddess Rome, and of the Emperor her deified\nrepresentative. There is also, we may perhaps add, the attempt by way\nof philosophic thought. For philosophy at this time had a religious\nbent which increased not improbably as the circulation of Christian\nthought stole unknown through the veins of society: and it felt after\nthe One Being whose Personal existence and Fatherhood it waveringly\ndiscerned, but whom yet it could not steadily distinguish from a\npersonified order of nature. Such a religious idea, needed to complete\nCicero's commonwealth of the Universe comprehending Gods and men, may\nbe seen with increasing clearness in Seneca, Epictetus, and Aurelius.\nThe need of a universal religion is thus directly shewn. But other\nproofs, as clear though less direct, are to be drawn from the other\ndepartments of human thought. For literature was already a unity, into\nwhich whatever the genius of provincials like Lucan, or Seneca, or\nPliny contributed was gathered up. And it is a commonplace that the\ngreatest constructive result of the imperial period was the creation\nor development of a universal code of law.\n\n(2) In what has been last said we have almost crossed the imaginary\nline by which we were to divide the preparation in external fact from\nthat which was more inward in thought and feeling. To deal with this\nlatter may seem almost ridiculous: since to do so must involve the\npresumption of summarizing in a few lines the drift of the literature\nand thought of antiquity. Yet, in the briefest words, it may be\npossible to suggest a few true outlines of the shape which an account\nof that drift should take. It would certainly represent the mental\nhistory of the classical world in its relation to the Gospel as\nsupplying a double preparation, positive and negative: a positive\npreparation by evolving ideas which the Gospel could work into its own\nfabric, or a frame of mind which would make for it a suitable 'nidus'\nand a receptive soil: a negative preparation by the breakdown of human\nnature's own constructive and speculative efforts, and by the room\nthus left for a revelation which would unite the broken and useless\nfragments of thought and minister to unsatisfied needs. And of these\nthe negative seems the more predominant and the more direct. In so\nsaying we are guided by what appears to be the teaching of the New\nTestament. It seems as though the main upshot of that time was, and\nwas meant to be, the failure of the world 'by wisdom[163]' to find the\ntruth: though when this has been recognised and acknowledged, then the\nworld might find, as we may find, that all the while in this\nunattaining and abortive thought God had put impulses from His own\nwisdom, and prepared materials for His own coming work. It is the\ntypical history of the 'natural man': and though what is primary and\nindispensable is that the natural man should learn the poverty and\nmisery of his own state, and be ready to die to his life, yet the\nnatural man too is the true though perverted work of God, and in his\nthoughts and instincts, his emotions and speculations, must be found a\nwitness to which the revelation will appeal, and a response which it\nwill elicit. It is impossible not to follow the track so suggested,\nand to see in the early stages of Greek life, the lusty youth-time of\nthe natural man. Casting off the bright and truthful simplicity, and\nthe happy story-telling of its childhood, it begins (we speak of the\ntimes between 600 and 450 B.C.) to try its young energies upon the\nproblems of the world: it suggests its explanations, quick, ingenious,\none-sided, changing, of how the world came to be: 'it came from\nwater,' 'from air,' 'from fire:' 'it came from the dance of atoms:'\n'nay, but these give us only the _how_, it came from something more\nthan these, it came from mind:' 'are you sure what _it_ is? fix upon\nany part of it and you will find it slip through your fingers, for all\nis change, and change is all we know;' these are the quick _premi\u00e8res\n\u00e9bauches_ of its young speculation. But already there is a sound of\nalarm in the air. That challenge asking whether there was an 'it' at\nall; and if so, whether by parity of cavil there was any solidity in\nthe other assumptions of thought, in 'good' and 'evil,' 'truth' and\n'falsehood,' 'beauty' and 'ugliness;' or at least anything beyond such\nmere relative and convenient meaning as there is in 'big' or 'little,'\n'thick' or 'thin,' 'wet' or 'dry'--this sobers men. Thought feels its\nown dangers. It must try its hand more seriously at some true\nconstructive work: and so there follows that great period in which,\nsteadied by the strong grip and sharp discipline of the great prophet\nof natural conscience and natural instinct, Socrates, it addresses\nitself to its great task of wringing her secret from the world. It is\ndone and necessarily done in the sheer self-reliance of the unaided\nmind, yet of the mind in the fullest sense of the word; not the mere\ncritical understanding, but the whole spiritual and rational energy of\nthe man, not disowning its dependence on a discipline of character and\na severe and painful training of its own powers. The results, so\nsplendid and yet so inadequate, so rich in great intuitions and\nsuggestions, so patient and successful in much of its detail, is\npreserved to us in the work of Plato and Aristotle. Christian thought\ncan never be interested in disparaging that work: Christian thinkers\nat different times have done special honour to different aspects of\nit: and the position of Aristotle in the works of Dante, and of\nAquinas, and in the frescoes of the Spanish chapel, is the sign of the\nungrudged admiration given by what in our modern way we might regard\nas among the least appreciative and discriminating of Christian times.\nBut the most ungrudging admiration cannot prevent our seeing, and\nhistory compels us to see, what it lacked. It lacked a foundation upon\na Rock. It had the certainty, if certainty at all, which belongs to\nprofound intuitions and to a wide interpretation of experience, not\nthat which makes a definite, settled, and above all communicable\nconviction. All the while narrower, pettier, more captious, or more\nordinary minds had been asking 'what is truth' in a very different\nspirit; had displayed the independence and captiousness of youth, and\nnot its hopeful and trustful creativeness. And more and more this\nlower element began to prevail. When it became a question not of\nprojecting systems which should impress and absorb the higher minds of\na few generations, but of providing that which should pass on with\nmen, the common run of men, into the advancing years, and stand the\nstrain of the world's middle life; then it was found that the human\nmind unaided was more powerful to destroy than to build or to\nmaintain. The dark horse of Plato's chariot pulled down his fellow: in\nthe unaided human understanding the critical faculty proved stronger\nthan the constructive: without the point of attachment in a central\ntruth to which men's high thoughts could reach and cling, or (to\nchange the figure) without a clearly-disclosed goal of truth towards\nwhich they could be seen to tend and converge, they could not maintain\nor justify themselves: 'the carnal mind' was against them and unworthy\nof them: as regards any real adoption of them by mankind for fruitful\nand trustworthy convictions, they passed away, according to that law\nof which the modern poet speaks:--\n\n                      Eternal hopes are man's\n  Which when they should maintain themselves aloft\n  Want due consistence: like a pillar of smoke\n  That with majestic energy from earth\n  Rises but, having reached the thinner air,\n  Melts and dissolves, and is no longer seen[164].\n\nWe shall not be wrong in saying that the course of philosophy after\nAristotle displayed increasingly the collapse of the experiment of\nspeculative self-reliance. Scepticism was not confined to the\n'Sceptics,' nor even shared only by the Epicureans: it deeply underlay\nthe philosophy of the Stoics. But as with advancing life men baffled\nin their early sanguineness fall back (both for good and evil) and\ncontent themselves with the energies of practical life, so the mind of\nthat day baffled and despairing of the speculative problem did not\nabandon, but transferred, its self-reliance; men threw themselves with\na sort of defiance into the organization of conduct; 'imperturbableness'\nand 'self-sufficiency' became watchwords of their thought[165]. This\nis the character of Stoicism: this explains its vogue and wide\nindirect influence; its curious likeness to its apparently quite alien\ncontemporary, Epicureanism, in a common cultivation of self-sufficingness;\nand, finally, its ready alliance with the natural tendencies of Roman\ncharacter when it passed from Greece to Rome.\n\nHere again was a great experiment, which had no mean success. We\nadmire almost with awe its unsparing thoroughness, its austerity, its\nunworldliness, its courage, its endurance. In its later forms, when\nsome power has touched it with gentleness, we yield it even a warmer\nand tenderer admiration. Only what we cannot do is to disguise its\nfailure as a great spiritual experiment. We cannot forget how it left\nthe mass of men untouched, how it concentrated strength by what it\nneglected of human sympathy and effort, how it revealed a disease and\npalsy of human nature which it could not cure: how at its heart it had\nno certainty of conviction to give peace and to resist the forces of\ndecay. Humanity will never, perhaps, wind itself higher. But it was a\nheight on which human strength is insufficient to stand. There lacked\na sure word of truth: the joy and fruitfulness of an inspiration: a\ngrace which could minister to the weakness, as well as summon the\nforces, of human nature. We cannot be blind to its failure unless we\nshare it: unless, that is, we are trying to satisfy ourselves by some\nphilosophy of life which misses its secrets, has no key to many of its\nproblems, and at heart despairs of its solution. The experiment of\nmoral self-reliance, then, failed in its turn.\n\nBut we spoke of a positive as well as a negative upshot to all this\nGentile history: a positive contribution to the preparation for\nChrist. Where shall we look for this? Surely alongside of, and in the\nsame plane with, the failures. If one chief result of the history of\nthe ancient world was to exhibit the insufficiency of man's efforts to\nfind truth and righteousness and life, this must be completely shewn\nin proportion as the efforts were noble, and therefore in proportion\nas they realized (though, at the moment, only for disappointment) the\ncapacities, the possibilities, the true desires and ideals of man. If\nman the race, like man the individual, was finally to find salvation\nby dying to himself, to his own natural man, he could only do this\nwhen it had been adequately and magnificently proved both that he\ncould not save himself, and how splendidly worth saving he was. He\nmust do his best, that he may despair of his best. Do we not feel that\nthis is just what was worked out by the histories of Greece and Rome?\nThey are splendid experiments of human power. Diverse in their method,\nthey combine in this result. In Greece the experiment is by way of\nspontaneity, of free lively development, conditioned only by its own\ninstincts of taste and beauty. And Rome represents the alternative\nplan of seeking strength by discipline, by subordination, by distrust\nof novelty, by sacrifice of individuality to the corporate life, and\nof sentiment and opinion to the rule of law. Both realize deathless\ntypes of matured human life, of its beauty, its brilliant graces, its\ndignity, its honour, its strength. Perhaps, according to the\none-sidedness which limits so severely the works and lives of men, it\nmight have been impossible that these possibilities of his nature\nshould have been _first_ realized with the same solidity and fulness\nin presence of those mighty truths, speaking of what was above man,\nwhich brooded over the history of the Jews and came forth into the\nworld with the Gospel. Yet they are indispensable to the fulness of\nthe Christian work: they are the human material: and that material\nmust be first-rate in its kind. We owe it perhaps permanently to\nGreece and Rome that we recognise fully the grace of God's original\nworkmanship in man, the validity of his instincts, his individual\nvalue, the sacredness and strength of all his natural social bonds,\nthe wisdom and power possessed by his incorporated life. These are\nthings which we could never have realized if all the world had been\nbrought up in the barbarous societies of ancient Europe or under the\ngreat despotisms of Egypt and Asia. The religions of Asia may perhaps\nshew us by contrast the immense importance to a religion of being able\nto build with sound and adequate materials on the human side. That\nGreece and Rome did contribute specially in this way to the work of\nthe true religion may be shewn by the way in which men have again and\nagain turned back to these original sources for fresh impulses of\nliberty or vigour.\n\nBut these things had their day and passed. The age of Pericles and of\nDemosthenes, the great days of the Roman Republic, are only epochs in\nthe history, long past at the era of our Lord. We look to see whether\nthere is any positive preparation for Him and His Gospel in the whole\ndrift of that history, and especially in tendencies which took a\ndeveloped form closer to the era of Christianity[166].\n\nGeneral and popular impressions about the character and course of the\nhistory will put us on the track of a true answer. It is impossible to\nlook at the history of the classical world without getting a double\nimpression, that it is a history of failure and degeneracy, and yet\nthat it is a history of bettering and progress. If we take the world\nat the Christian era, the times of political brilliancy and energy are\nover, and men are sinking into a uniformity of servility and\nstagnation: morally the ancient severity is lost, and the laws of\nAugustus are feebly coping with the results of a general dissoluteness\nas to morality and marriage: economically society is disfigured by a\nvast slave system, by the disappearance of honest and thriving free\nlabour, and by great developments of luxury and pauperism: in\nliterature, though it is the 'golden age,' the signs are not wanting,\nin artificiality and the excessive study of form, of imminent rapid\ndecline into the later rhetorical culture: in philosophy speculation\nhad run itself out into scepticism and self-destruction: and in\nreligion a disbelief in the ancient gods and a doubt of all Divine\nprovidence is matter of open profession. And yet there is a bettering.\nThe laws of the Empire become a model of humanity, equitableness, and\nsimplicity. Seneca and Epictetus rise to thoughts of moral purity and\nsublimity and delicacy which at times seem hardly unworthy of the New\nTestament: and their humane and comprehensive ideas have cast off the\nlimitations which the narrow life of Greek cities set to those of\ntheir greater predecessors.\n\nHere then is a great clearing of the stage, and a great predisposing\nof thought and sentiment, for a religion which proclaimed a good\ntidings for all men without distinction of 'Jew or Greek, Barbarian\nand Scythian, bond or free'; for a religion of compassion; for a\nreligion wholly spiritual and unpolitical. There are traces distinct\nand widespread of special tendencies to such a religion, and they are\nconnected with the best side of the life of the time. The enormous\ndiffusion of the 'collegia' or clubs, in which the members were drawn\ntogether without distinction of rank, or even of free and slave, in a\npartly religious bond, shews the instinct of the time feeling for a\nreligion of brotherhood. There is a delicacy of family life as seen in\nPlutarch, in Pliny, in Fronto, which shews readiness for a religion\nsuch as should regenerate the simple instincts and relations of\nhumanity. In the position and function of the philosophers (who\nsometimes half-remind one of mendicant friars[167], sometimes of the\nconfessor or chaplain in families of rank, in their relation to\neducation and to the vicissitudes of later life) there is implied a\nconcentration of thought and interest upon character and upon the\ndiscipline of individual life, a sensibility to spiritual need, which\nall indicates a ground prepared for Christian influence. And, finally,\nwhether it be from the stealing in of Eastern influences, or from a\nreaction against the cold scepticism of Ciceronian times, or from a\nhalf-political half-genuine sense of the necessity of religion to\nsociety, or from a sort of awed impression created by the marvellous\nfortune of Rome, or from the steady impact of the clear strong deep\nreligious faith of the Jews scattered everywhere, and everywhere, as\nwe know, to an extraordinary extent leavening society, or, as time\nwent on, from a subtle influence of Christianity not yet accepted or\neven consciously known,--there was, it is notorious, a return towards\nreligion in the mind of men. The temples were again thronged: priests\nbecame philosophers. In Neo-Platonism thought again looks upward, and\nthe last phase of Greek philosophy was in the phrase of the dry and\ndispassionate Zeller[168] 'a philosophy of Revelation' which sought\nknowledge partly in the inner revelation of the Deity and partly in\nreligious tradition. This movement was indeed a rival of Christianity;\nit came to put out some of its strength in conscious rivalry, or it\ntried in Gnostic heresies to rearrange Christianity on its own lines:\nbut it was the result and witness of a disposition of men's hearts\nwhich made way for the Gospel.\n\nIt was not, then, merely true that the failures of the heathen world\nleft it empty, hungering, distrustful of itself; nor merely that the\nworld of that particular epoch gave extraordinary facilities of an\noutward kind for the diffusion of a world-religion: but also that in\nsome of its most characteristic and deepest workings, in thoughts and\ndispositions which it had purchased at a great cost of ancient glories\nand liberties and of all that was proud and distinctive in Greek and\nRoman religion, there was that which would make men ready for\nChristianity and cause it to be to them, as it could not have been to\ntheir ancestors, intelligible, possible, and congenial.\n\n\nII. Dr. Westcott has drawn, in a useful phrase, the invaluable\ndistinction between a _tendency towards_, and a _tendency to produce_,\nthe truth of Christianity[169].\n\nIf we have been able to trace a real shaping of the lines inward and\noutward of the world's order disposing it for a true religion, the\nimpression which this makes on us must be enormously increased if (1)\nwe can see that that religion, when it comes, is most obviously a\nthing which _comes_ to the Gentile world, and does not _grow out of_\nit either by blending of tendencies, or by constructive individual\ngenius: and if (2) we are able to indicate another and perfectly\ndistinct course of shaping and preparation which at the required\nmoment yielded the material and equipment for the religion which was\nto go out upon the world.\n\nThat this was so is in a sense upon the face of history. The Christian\nChurch, it has been said, appeared at first as a Jewish sect. 'The\nsalvation' Christ declared was 'of the Jews.' He came ('not to destroy\nbut) to fulfil' the system amidst which He arose. Such sayings put us\nupon the track of a special preparation for the Gospel. Let us follow\nit. And (as the phrase is chosen to imply) we look here for something\nkindred indeed in many of its methods to that general preparation\nwhich we have hitherto traced, but yet more coherent, positive, and\nconcentrated. For we pass in a sense at this point (to use language of\nthe day), from the preparation of an environment suitable to the\nGospel, to a preparation of the organism itself. Such language is\nobviously open to criticisms and misconceptions of more kinds than\none. But it is sufficiently defensible historically and theologically\nto justify us in gaining the clearness which it gives.\n\nI shall attempt to present the signs of this preparation by\nconsidering successively these three points.\n\n(1) The relations between Israel and the world at the Christian era.\n\n(2) The fitness of Israel to be the seed-plot of a world-religion, and\nof the world-religion given by Christ.\n\n(3) The character of the process by which the Israel, so fitted, and\nso placed, had come to be.\n\n(1) Many a reader of Mommsen's _History of Rome_ will have been\nsurprised by finding that the ideal political construction which the\nwriter's knowledge and imagination have ascribed to Caesar was to\nconsist of three elements--the Roman, the Hellenic, and the\nJewish[170]. Yet striking as the paradox is, it is chiefly in the\nfacts themselves. Whether we look at the ethnological character of the\nJews amidst a system whose strength is from the West; or at their\nhistorical position, as a nation in some sense in decadence, with a\nhistory of independence and glories long lost; or at the minuteness of\ntheir original seat, and its insignificance at that time as\n(ordinarily) a subordinate district under the Roman province of Syria,\nit is alike surprising that it should be possible to speak of them as\nthe third factor of the Roman Empire. Yet, in the main, the same\nsurprise is created by any acquaintance with the circumstances of the\nJewish Dispersion, as it may be learnt from easily accessible books,\nsuch as Edersheim's or Sch\u00fcrer's[171]. There is first the ubiquity of\nthe race: testified alike by Josephus, Strabo, and Philo, and by the\nwitness of inscriptions. They are everywhere, and everywhere in force,\nthroughout the Roman world. Outside the Roman world their great\ncolonies in Babylon and Mesopotamia are another headquarters of the\nrace. They are an eighth part (one million) of the population of\nEgypt: they yield 10,000 at the least to one massacre in Antioch. To\nnumbers and ubiquity they add privilege in the shape of rights and\nimmunities, begun by the policy of the successors of Alexander, but\nvigorously taken up and pushed by Rome as early as 139 B.C., greatly\ndeveloped by Caesar round whose pyre at Rome they wept, and maintained\nby the almost consistent policy of the earlier Empire: rights of equal\ncitizenship in the towns where they lived, and equal enjoyment of the\nboons granted to citizens: rights of self-government and internal\nadministration: and rights or immunities guarding their distinctive\ncustoms, such as their observance of the Sabbath or their transmission\nof tribute to Jerusalem. The opportunities thus secured from without\nwere vigorously turned to account by their trading instinct, their\ntenacity, their power of living at a low cost, and above all by their\nadmirable freemasonry among themselves, which bound Jews throughout\nthe world into a society of self-help, and must have greatly assisted\nthe enterprises which depend on facility of information,\ncommunication, and movement. So far we merely get an impression of\ntheir importance. But there are other points which, while they greatly\nheighten this impression, add to it that of remarkable peculiarity. To\nask what was their influence plunges us into a tumult of paradoxes.\nThey had, for example, everywhere the double character of citizens and\nstrangers, speaking the language of the countries where they dwelt,\n'being Antiochenes,' as Josephus says, 'at Antioch, Ephesians at\nEphesus,' and so forth: possessing and using the rights and franchises\nof citizens, and yet every one of them counting the Holy Land his\ncountry and Jerusalem his capital: respecting the Sanhedrin of\nJerusalem as the supreme authority of the race: sending up their\ntribute annually, flocking thither themselves in vast numbers to keep\nthe feasts, or again not seldom returning there to die. They possessed\nin fact the combined advantages of the most elastic diffusion, and the\nstrongest national concentration. Such a position could hardly make\ntheir relations to their neighbours entirely simple or harmonious. It\n'involved an internal contradiction[172].' It could not but be felt\nthat while enjoying all the advantages of citizenship, their hearts\nwere really elsewhere. From all the religious and social side of the\ncommon life, which in the ancient world was far less separable from\nthe political than it is now, they were sensibly aliens. They were\nvisibly making the best of two inconsistent positions. And accordingly\nthe irritation against them in the towns (we have a glimpse of it in\nActs xix.\u00a034) and the ensuing encroachments and riots, form as chronic\na feature of the position, as does their protection by the Empire. But\nthe causes of irritation went wider and deeper. It has been said that\n'the feelings cherished towards the Jews throughout the entire\nGraeco-Roman world were not so much those of hatred as of pure\ncontempt[173].' Their exterior was doubtless unlovely: a Jewry, as M.\nRenan reminds us, was perhaps not more attractive in ancient than in\nmodern times. But what was even more offensive, especially to that\ncosmopolitan age, and what struck it as altogether the dominant\ncharacteristic of the Jews, was their stubborn and inhuman perversity.\nThey would be unlike all the rest of the world. Tacitus has even\nformulated this for them as the principle guiding their whole action,\nreduced to practice in details which were singularly well fitted to\nexhibit its offensiveness[174]. His picture should be read by any one\nwho wishes to realize how cultivated opinion thought of them: and,\neven if evidence were lacking, we can see that this was just the kind\nof dislike to be shared by all classes, cultivated and uncultivated\nalike. Yet it is against the background of this intense prejudice,\never more scornful and irritated as it was exasperated by the\nincidents of daily contact at close quarters, that we have to paint\nthe phenomena, as striking and as abundantly testified, of the vast\nand penetrating influence of the Jews over their neighbours. These\nalso lie upon the surface. In very various degrees multitudes (of whom\nwomen doubtless formed a considerable majority) adopted the customs\nand brought themselves into connection with the religion of the Jews.\nThe boasts or claims of Josephus, who refers any sceptical\ncontemporary to 'his own country or his own family,' are confirmed by\nthe admissions of classical writers, by the indignant sarcasms\ndirected against the converts, and by the vivid touches in the Acts of\nthe Apostles[175]. 'Victi victoribus leges dederunt' is the strong\nphrase of Seneca, and it was a very persuasive influence which could\ncause it to be said that in Damascus 'nearly the whole female\npopulation was devoted to Judaism': which could give S.\u00a0Paul's Jewish\nopponents in the towns of Greece and Asia Minor the power at one time\nof raising the mob, at another of working upon the 'chief' and\n'honourable women,' the ladies of the upper classes: or which could\nbring 'almost the whole city' together in a provincial town because a\nnew teacher appears in the Jews' synagogue[176]. This influence had\nits results in a considerable number of actual proselytes who through\ncircumcision received admission, somewhat grudging indeed and guarded,\nwithin the Jewish pale, but still more in a much larger number of\nadherents (the 'devout persons,' 'devout Greeks,' &c., of the\nActs[177]) attracted by the doctrines, and acquainted with the\nScriptures of Israel, who formed a fringe of partly leavened Gentile\nlife round every synagogue.\n\nWe hardly need evidence to shew us that to this picture of the\ninfluence of Jew over Gentile, there need to be added another which\nwill shew how the subtle, persuasive, and powerful culture of the\nGraeco-Roman world made itself felt upon the Jews of the Dispersion.\nThe contrast between the Jews of Palestine and those of the\nDispersion, the translation of the Scriptures into Greek, the rise of\na literature which in different ways tried to recommend what was\nJewish to the heathen or to fuse what was Jewish with what was Greek,\nthe single figure of Philo at Alexandria, are all evidences of an\ninfluence, which must have told continually with penetrating power on\nall that was ablest and most thoughtful in the Jewish mind. It was not\nthe least considerable result of this that all the great thoughts and\nbeliefs of Israel learned to talk the language of the civilized world,\nand so acquired before the time of Christ an adequate and congenial\nvehicle.\n\nSuch was the position of Israel at the Christian era. It was one which\nhad been gradually brought about during the last three centuries B.C.;\nbut it only came to its full growth in the last few decades (the\nJewish settlement in Rome may date from Pompey's time) under favour of\nthe imperial policy and the peace of the times: and it was soon to\nchange; indeed the fall of Jerusalem A.D. 70 altered it within and\nwithout. Thus it stood complete during the half-century in which the\nwork of founding the Christian Church throughout the Empire was\naccomplished, and then passed away. We remark upon it how admirable an\norganization it offered for the dissemination of a world-religion,\noriginated upon Jewish soil. The significance of this, occurring at\nthe time when such a religion actually appeared, is heightened when we\nobserve that the position had continued long enough fully to try the\nexperiment of what by its own forces Judaism could accomplish for the\nworld. As S.\u00a0James argued[178] 'Moses had,' now for a long time, in\nevery city them that preach him, being read in the synagogues every\nSabbath day'--and it might have so gone on for ever without any\nconversion of the Gentile world. That world could never have been\ndrawn within a system, which, however zealous to make proselytes, had\nnothing better to offer to those whom it made than that they might\ncome in, if they liked, and sit down in the lowest place, tolerated\nrather than welcomed, dependents rather than members of an intensely\nnational community, leaving father and mother and all that they had,\nnot for a position of spiritual freedom, but for a change of earthly\nnationality.\n\n(2) But we trench upon the second question. What was the nation that\nheld this position of vantage? What signs are there about it which\nsuggest a special preparation for a purposed result?\n\nIt is one answer to this question to say that this wonderfully placed\npeople had, alone among the nations, a genuine faith, a genuine hope,\nand a genuine charity. They at least, says Seneca, when he complains\nof their influence, 'knew the reasons of their customs.' There was a\n_raison d'\u00eatre_ to their religion. In a world which still kept up the\nforms of worship and respect for gods whose character and existence\ncould not stand the criticism of its own best moral and religious\ninsight, any more than that of its scepticism; or which was framing\nfor itself thoughts of Deity by intellectual abstraction; or which was\nbetraying its real ignorance of the very idea of God by worshipping\nthe two great powers which, as a matter of fact, it knew to be mighty,\nNature and the Roman Empire,--the Jew had a _faith_, distinct,\ncolossal, and unfailing, in a Living God, Maker of heaven and earth.\nThis we may be sure was the inner secret of the true attraction which\ndrew the hearts of such men as Cornelius the centurion to the despised\nand repulsive Jew. This God, they further believed, was their God for\never and ever. 'Let us kneel,' they said, 'before the Lord our Maker,\nfor He is the Lord our God.' And therefore, let them have gained it\nhow they may, they had an indomitable _hope_, or rather, confidence,\nwhich all unpropitiousness of outer appearances had only served to\nstimulate, that He would bring them through, that He had a purpose for\nthem, and that He would bring it to pass: that the world was no\nmechanical system of meaningless vicissitudes, but an order, of which\nindeed they little realized the scope, moving under the hand of a\nRuler for a purpose of glory and beneficence. That the confidence of\nthe extraordinary destiny which, under this order, was reserved for\nIsrael, as well as the present possession of the Divine law and\ncovenant, should have produced an intense sense of unity and\nfellowship was a matter of course. The Roman is obliged to recognise\ntheir mutual _charity_, however deformed, as he thinks, by their\nantipathy to all who were not of their kindred and faith.\n\nBut such an answer to our question, though it brings before us a sign,\nand a sign of the very highest, that is of the moral and spiritual,\norder, does not perhaps set us at the point from which the whole\nmeaning of the position opens to us most naturally. It may do this\nmore effectually to ask whether there was any material in Judaism for\na world-religion, and for that world-religion which grew out of it?\n\nPerhaps if we performed the futile task of trying to imagine a\nworld-religion, we should, with some generality of consent, define as\nits essentials three or four points which it is striking to find were\nfundamentals of the religion of Israel, and at that time of no other.\nWe should require a doctrine of God, lofty, spiritual, moral: a\ndoctrine of man which should affirm and secure his spiritual being and\nhis immortality: and a doctrine of the relations between God and man,\nwhich should give reality to prayer and to the belief in providence,\nand root man's sense of responsibility in the fact of his obligation\nto a righteousness outside and above himself, a doctrine in short of\njudgment. It needs no words to shew how the religion of Israel in its\nfull development not only taught these truths, but gave them the\ndignity and importance which belong to the cornerstones of a religion.\n\nBut then along with these that religion taught other beliefs as\nclearly conceived, which seemed to be of the most opposite character:\njust as distinctive and exclusive as the former were universal. It\ntaught the obligation in every detail of a very stringent written law,\nand of a ceremonial and sacrificial system, centred at Jerusalem, and\nforming the recognised communication between God and man. It taught a\nspecial election of Israel and covenant of God with Israel, a special\npurpose and future for Israel. Nor was the conception of the\nparticipation by other nations in the blessings of Messiah's rule, (to\nwhich we, reading for example the prophecies of Isaiah in the light of\nthe sequel, cannot but give a dominant place,) more to an Israelite\nthan a striking incident in a distinctively Israelite glory.\n\nIt would seem then, combining these two sides, that there was in\nIsrael the foundation on which a religion for the world could be laid,\nbut that it could only be made available under stringent and, as it\nmight appear, impossible conditions. An attempt to make a religion by\nextracting the universal truths in Judaism would have been simply to\ndesert at once the vantage-ground which it was proposed to occupy,\nbecause it would have conflicted directly with every Jewish instinct,\nbelief, tradition, and hope. If the thing was to be done, it must be\ndone by some power and teaching which, while extricating into\nclearness all that was truest in the theology and morality of Israel,\nwas also able to shew to the judgment of plain men and earnest\nseekers, that it constituted a true climax of Israel's history, a true\nfulfilment of the promises and prophecies which Jews had now made\nmatters of notoriety everywhere, a true final cause of all the\npeculiar and distinctive system of Israel. It must be able to take\nIsrael to witness, and therefore it must be able to convince men not\nonly that it had a high theology and a refined morality, but that God\nhad 'visited His people': and that 'what He had spoken unto the\nfathers He had so fulfilled.' It must produce accordingly not only\ndoctrine, but fact. It must carry on, what was implied in the whole\ndiscipline of Israel, the assertion that truth was not a matter of\nspeculation, but a word from God; or the knowledge of a dealing of God\nwith man clothing itself with reality, embodying itself in fact,\nmaking a home for itself in history. It is true that the Judaism of\nthe synagogue in its idolatry of the law, had assumed the appearance\nof a paper system, but in that form it had no promise or power of\nexpansion: and on the side where the religion of Israel admitted of\ndevelopment into some higher and wider state, it was distinctly a\nreligion not of theory or teaching only, but of Divine action\nrevealing itself in history.\n\nIt will not escape any observer of the beginnings of Christianity that\nit was precisely this attempt which the Gospel of Jesus made. If we\nwatch S.\u00a0Paul speaking to his Gentile audiences at Lystra or Athens,\nhe brings to bear upon the instincts of his hearers the strong magnet\nof a clear and definite Theism. But these addresses themselves\nimplicitly contain another element: and we must now look to them for\nexamples of the process, the careful earnest process, by which the\nGospel did its rapid and yet most gradual work of conversion.\nUnquestionably, as S.\u00a0Paul himself affirms, and as the Acts and the\nearly apologetic writers shew us, it was done by asserting, and making\ngood the assertion with careful proof and reasoning, that in the\nhistorical appearance and character of Jesus Christ, in His treatment\nwhile on earth, in His resurrection and heavenly exaltation, was to be\nfound the true, natural, and legitimate fulfilment of that to which\nthe Scriptures in various ways, direct and indirect, pointed, and of\nthat which the hope of Israel, slowly fashioned by the Scriptures\nunder the discipline of experience, had learnt to expect. This could\nbe pressed home most directly on Jews, but it was available also for\nthe large prepared class among Gentiles, to whom the pre-existence of\nthese prophecies and anticipations was known matter of fact, and to\nsome of whom the Jewish Scriptures had been a personal discipline: the\ntruth of the Gospel was one 'now made manifest and by the Scriptures\nof the prophets, according to the commandment of the everlasting God,\nmade known to all nations for the obedience of faith.' The double\nrequirement was fulfilled, and a religion, intrinsically universal and\neternal, was seen by spiritually clear-sighted eyes to be in a most\nreal and organic sense the flower of Israel's stalk.\n\n(3) If it has appeared that in the placing of the nation at the era,\nand in its character and belief, there was something much to be\n'wondered at,' and, more definitely, something marvellously suited,\nnot indeed to generate such a religion as that of the Gospel, but to\nfoster and assist its growth when the seed of Divine fact should be\nsown on the prepared soil; then we shall ask, finally, whether there\nis anything of like striking significance in the way in which this\nstate of things had come about? Let us pass by the causes by which the\npeople of Israel obtained their external position. These, even\nincluding a thing so remarkable as the spontaneous restoration by an\nOriental Empire of a deported people, are not in themselves different\nfrom the ordinary workings of history; though in combination they may\ncontribute to deepen the impression of a hand fashioning out of many\nelements, and in many ways, a single great result. But how had the\nJews come to be what they were? how had they gained the religious\ntreasure which they possessed, and the tenacity of religious and\nnational life which played guardian to it? The whole course of\nIsrael's history must, in one sense, give the answer to this question:\nand there are no controversies more difficult or more unsolved than\nthose which are now raging round the problem of that course, its\norigin, stages, and order. But it may be possible to make some\nreflections on it without entangling ourselves very much in those\ncontroversies.\n\n(_a_) At the outset it is impossible not to be struck by the interest\nwhich the Jews themselves felt in the process of their history. That\ninterest belongs to the very centre of their life and thought. It is\nnot an offshoot of national vainglory, for (as has been so often\nremarked) it resulted in a record full-charged with the incidents of\nnational failure and defection: it is not the result of a\nself-conscious people analysing its own moral and other development,\nfor though the moral judgment is indeed always at work in the\nnarratives and the poems, it is more occupied in drawing out the\nteaching of recurring sequences of sin and punishment than in framing\na picture of the whole. The result is to lay a picture of development\nbefore us, but the aim is to treasure and record every detail of God's\ndealings with the nation of His choice. This is what gives continuity\nand unity to the whole: this is what lends to it its intense and\ncharacteristic uniqueness. And when we look steadily at this, we\nperceive afresh, what familiarity almost conceals from us, the\ndistinctive quality of Israel's religion; that it is not a system of\nteaching, nor a tradition of worship, nor a personal discipline,\nthough it may include all these; but that it is in itself a belief in\nthe working of God, Who is the God of all the earth, but specially the\nGod of Israel, and Who works indeed everywhere, but in an altogether\nspecial sense in Israel. In reflecting on their history they\ncontemplate the object of their faith. Hence truth is to them not a\nphilosophic acquisition, but lies in the words which had come from God\nfaithfully treasured and received: it is _revealed_ in word and act:\ngoodness, in man or nation, is the faithful adherence to those\nconditions, under which the good purpose of God can work itself out\nand take effect: it is a correspondence to a purpose of _grace_: and\nthe centre and depositary of their hope is neither the human race, nor\nany association for moral and religious effort, but an organism raised\nby Him who raises all the organisms of nature from a chosen seed, and\ndrawn onwards through the stages by which family passes into nation\nand kingdom, and then through that higher discipline by which the\nnatural commonwealth changes into the spiritual community of the\nfaithful 'remnant.' If any one will try to realize the impression\nwhich Christianity made upon the heathen world, he will not fail to\nsee how the new truth was able to impress men because it found these\nconceptions of revelation, grace, and an organic society of God's\nchoice and shaping, all so strange and so impressive to the heathen\nworld, ingrained as the natural elements of religion in the men whom\nit made its instruments.\n\nBut why did the Jews so regard their history? For the answer we may\nrevert to the other question, What made them what they were at the\nChristian era? For they had gone through a crisis calculated to\ndestroy both their existence and their religion. It has been in\nfashion with some writers to emphasize the resemblances, and minimize\nthe differences, between the religion of Israel and that of its\nneighbours. In view of this it becomes important to note the specific\nperil of ancient religions. That peril was that the close association\nof the nation with its god caused the failure of the one to appear a\nfailure of the other, and to endanger or destroy the respect paid to\nhim. The religion of a subdued or ruined people was, as we may say, a\ndemonstrated failure. Sennacherib's defiance of Hezekiah urges this\nwith a conqueror's irony[179]. The case of the Ten Tribes had,\nprobably, given an illustration of it within the circle of Israel\nitself. And in Judah, upon any shewing, there was enough of the\nfeeling that Jehovah was responsible for His people, of the conviction\nthat He would certainly protect His own, of the confidence resting on\nprosperity and liable to be shaken by its loss, to make the downfall\nof the state, carrying with it that of the Temple and the outer order\nof religion, an enormous peril to the religion itself and with it to\nthe very existence of Israel. It is not difficult to discern the\nagency by which the peril was averted. That agency was Prophecy.\nModern criticism, though it may quarrel with the inspiration or\npredictive power of the prophets, has given fresh and unbiassed\nwitness to their importance as an historical phenomenon. Kuenen[180],\nfor example, points out how at every turning-point in Israel's later\nhistory there stands a man who claims to bring a word of God to the\npeople. Prof. Huxley[181], in a recent article, has told us that 'a\nvigorous minority of Babylonian Jews,' that is, the Jews upon whom the\nfull forces of prophecy bore, 'created the first consistent,\nremorseless, naked Monotheism, which, so far as history records,\nappeared in the world ... and they inseparably united therewith an\nethical code, which, for its purity and its efficiency as a bond of\nsocial life, was, and is, unsurpassed.' Of whatever fact may underlie\nthis description, the prophets are at once evidence and authors.\n\nNow prophecy confronted the impending peril in the name of Jehovah: on\nthe one side it displayed the enemy (whether as by Isaiah it\nprescribed a bound to his advance, or as by Jeremiah announced the\ncatastrophe to be wrought by him) as himself utterly in Jehovah's\nhands, His axe or saw for discipline upon the trees of the forest; on\nthe other side it shewed that Jehovah's obligation to Israel was\nconditioned by His essential righteousness; that national disaster\nmight be Jehovah's necessary vengeance, and that His purpose for\nIsrael--which it re-asserted with fullest emphasis--might need to be\nrealized for an Israel purified by such discipline, a shoot from the\nstock of the felled tree, the remnant of an 'afflicted and poor\npeople[182].' And prophecy was beforehand with all this: it was not an\nafterthought to explain away a calamity: and so it fashioned in Israel\nat least a core of spiritual faith, to which outward disaster of\npolity and religion, however destructive, was not confounding, and\nwhich had stamina enough in it to draw wholesome though bitter\nnourishment from the hard Captivity discipline. This, when the flood\ncame, was an ark for Israel's religion, and, in its religion, for the\nnational life, which re-organized itself under new conditions round\nthe nucleus of the religion.\n\nThus, at the crisis and hinge of the historical development which\nissued in the wonderfully placed and constituted Israel of Christ's\ntime, and which was crowned by the New Religion, we find this agency,\nwhich in itself would arrest our wonder. The more we look at it, the\nmore wonderful it is. Every suggestion of comparison with heathen\noracles, divination and the rest, can only bring out with more vivid\neffect the contrast and difference between it and all such things. It\nclaims by the mouth of men transparently earnest and honest, to speak\nfrom God. It brings with it the highest credentials, moral, spiritual,\nhistorical: _moral_, for it spends what at first sight seems all its\nstrength in the intrepid and scathing rebuke of the evils immediately\nround it, especially in the high places of society, against the lust,\ncruelty, avarice, frivolity, insolence, foul worships, which it found\nso rankly abundant: _spiritual_, for it speaks the language of an\nabsolutely unworldly faith, and accomplishes a great spiritual work,\nsuch as we can hardly over-estimate, unless indeed with Prof. Huxley\nwe distort its proportions so as to prejudice the earlier religion\nfrom which it sprang or the Christianity to which it contributed:\n_historical_, because occurring at the very crisis of Israel's history\n(750-550), it gained credence and authority from the witness of\nevents, and dealt with an emergency of the most perilous and\nbewildering kind, as not the most skilful opportunist could have dealt\nwith it, by a use, as sublime as simple, of the principles of\nrighteousness and faith. If we compare what the prophets did for their\ncontemporaries and what they did for the future of Israel and the\nworld, and see that this was done, not by two sets of utterances\nworking two different ways, but by a single blended strain of\nprophecy, we gain a double impression, of which the twofold force is\nastonishing indeed. It is gained without pressing their claim to\npredictive power, at least beyond the horizons of their own period.\nBut it is impossible for any careful and candid reader of the words of\nthe prophets to stop there, and not to feel that there is another\nelement in them, not contained in a passage here and there but for\never reappearing, interwoven with the rest, and evidently felt by the\nprophets themselves to be in some sense necessary for the vindication\nand completion of their whole teaching. It is an element of\nanticipation and foresight. We see that this is so, and we see in part\nthe method of it. It is bound up with, it springs out of, all that is\nspiritually and morally greatest in the prophets. Their marvellous,\nclear-sighted, steady certainty that the Lord who sitteth above rules\nall, that He is holy, and that unrighteousness in man or nations\ncannot prevail; their insight piercing through the surface of history\nto underlying laws of providential order; the strange conviction or\nconsciousness, felt throughout the nation but centring in the\nprophets, that this God had a purpose for Israel:--these deep things,\nwhich, however they came and whatever we think of them, make Israel's\ndistinctive and peculiar glory, were accompanied by, and issued in,\nanticipations of a future which would vindicate and respond to them.\nJust as the belief in a future life for God's children was not taught\nas a set doctrine to the Jews, but grew with the growth of their\nknowledge of the Living and Holy God, and of man's relation as a\nspiritual being to Him, so with the predictions of which we speak. As\nit was given to the prophets to realize the great spiritual truths of\npresent because eternal moment which they taught, it was given to them\nalso to discern that these truths pointed to a future which should\nbring them vindication. The cloudy time of trial and confusion would\none day come to a close; the Sun whose rays they caught would one day\nshine out; the partial and passing deliverances in which they taught\nmen to see God's hand must one day issue in a deliverance of deeper\nmoment, of lasting and adequate significance; there would be an\nunbaring of God's arm, a manifesting of His power to decide, to\njustify, to condemn, and it would be seen in some final form why and\nhow Israel was, in a distinctive sense, the people of the God of the\nwhole earth; that union between God and His people, of which the\nprophets were themselves mediators and which was so miserably\nimperfect and so constantly broken, would one day be complete; and,\nfinally, even the very instruments which He was using in the present,\nthe Anointed King, the chosen Royal House, the Prophet-Servant of God,\nthe holy hill of Zion, were charged with a meaning of which the\nsignificance was only in the future to become clear. Thus, in this\nfree, deep, spiritual--let us say it out, inspired--manner the\npredictions of prophecy emerge and gather shape. Thus among the people\nwhich was most conservative and jealous of its own religious\nprivilege, the promise most deeply cherished was one in which all\nnations of the earth should be blessed, and there is heard the strange\nannouncement of a 'new covenant.' Thus it comes about that the most\nsatisfying and satisfied of all religions becomes the one which, in\nits deepest meaning, in the minds of its most faithful followers,\nstrains forward most completely beyond itself. Thus, as it has been\nsaid, 'Prophecy takes off its crown and lays it at the feet of One who\nis to be.' Thus a people who have become intensely and inexorably\nmonotheistic and to whom the Deity becomes more and more remote in\nawful majesty so that they do not dare to name His Name, carry down\nwith them Scriptures which discover the strange vision of a human King\nwith Divine attributes and strain towards some manifestation of God in\npresent nearness. Thus amidst the pictures in which, with every\nvarying detail, using the scenery, the personages, the nations, the\nideas of its own day, the instinct of prophetic anticipation finds\nexpression, there emerges, with gradually gathering strength, a\ndefinite Hope, and some clear lineaments of that which is to be.\n\nFor, be it observed, at this point interpretation, declaring what the\nprophets seem to us to-day to mean, passes into and gives way to\nhistorical fact. The most sceptical cannot deny either that the words\nin which the prophets spoke of the future, did as a matter of fact\ncrystallize into a hope, a hope such as has no parallel in history,\nand of which distorted rumours were able to stir and interest the\nheathen world: or that they were, long before the time of Jesus,\ninterpreted as sketching features, some general and shadowy, some\ncuriously distinct and particular, of Messiah's work and kingdom.\n\nAnd then, face to face with this, stands another fact as confessedly\nhistorical. For, 'in the fulness of the time,' it did appear to men of\nmany kinds who had the books in their hands, men with every reason for\njudging seriously and critically, and in most cases with the strongest\nprejudice in favour of an adverse judgment, that these prophecies were\nfulfilled in a King and a Kingdom such as they never dreamt of till\nthey saw them. It would be a strange chapter in the history of\ndelusion, if there were no more to add. But there is to add, first,\nthat the King and the Kingdom whereto, (in no small part upon the\nseeming perilous ground of this correspondence with prophecy,) these\nmen gave their faith, have proved to win such a spiritual empire as\nthey claimed: and, further, that men like ourselves, judging at the\ncool distance of two thousand years, are unable to deny that in the\ntruest sense of 'fulfilment,' as it would be judged by a religious\nmind, Jesus and His Kingdom do 'fulfil the prophets,' fulfil their\nassertion of a unique religious destiny for Israel by which the\nnations were to profit, of a time when the righteousness of God should\nbe revealed for the discomfiture of pride and sin and for the help of\nthe meek, of a nearer dwelling of God with His people, of a new\ncovenant, and of the lasting reign of a perfect Ruler.\n\nTo some minds it may weaken, but to others it will certainly\nintensify, the impression thus created, if they are asked to observe\nthat now and again there occur in the Jewish Scriptures words,\npassages, events, in which with startling distinctness, independence,\nand minuteness there stand forth features of what was to be. It is as\nif the anticipation which fills the air with glow focussed itself here\nand there in sparkling points of light which form and flash and fade\naway again. We may confidently assert that in the case of such\npassages as the 22nd and 110th Psalms or the 9th and 53rd Chapters of\nIsaiah the harder task is for him who will deny, than for him who will\nassert, a direct correspondence between prediction and fulfilment. If\nthey stood alone, general scientific considerations might make it\nnecessary to undertake the harder task. Standing out as they do from\nsuch a context and background as has been here indicated, the\ninterpretation which sees in them the work of a Divine providence\nshaping out a 'sign' for the purpose which in each Christian age, and\nespecially in the first, it has actually subserved, is the\ninterpretation which is truest to all the facts. They are the special\nself-betrayal of a power which is at work throughout, of which the\nspiritual ear hears the sound, though we are often unable distinctly\nto see the footprints.\n\nIt seems then impossible, upon such a view of the phenomena of\nprophecy as has been here roughly and insufficiently indicated, to\ndeny that whatever appearance of preparation we may discern in the\ncondition outward and inward of the Jews in the time of Christ, is\nstrongly corroborated by a like appearance of preparation in the\nprocess by which they had become what they were.\n\n(_b_) We have selected out of all the foregoing history the epoch and\nthe influence of the prophets for several reasons. They preside over\nthe most critical period of Israel's history. They seem to bring to\nmost pronounced expression the spirit and character which pervades the\nwhole of that history. They are known to us through their own\nwritings: and we are therefore on ground where (comparatively\nspeaking) the premises are uncontroverted. And as it is the fashion\nperhaps to discredit the argument of prophecy--partly, no doubt, on\naccount of the technical form in which it was ordinarily presented--it\nis important to re-assert that in all its main strength that argument\nholds its ground, reinforced indeed, as we think, by the increased\npower to apprehend its breadth and solidity which our more\nhistorically trained modern minds should have gained. But selection of\nwhat is most salient should imply no neglect of the rest; and the\nargument, or view of the facts,--which has here for clearness sake\nbeen abbreviated, and mainly centralized upon the work and\nimplications of prophecy,--can be deepened as the drift of the great\nlines of Israel's discipline is more deeply realized. Thus, for\nexample, little or nothing has been here said of the Law. Yet, without\nforeclosing any discussion as to its sources and development, we can\nsee that the law of God was a factor in every stage of Israel's\nhistory, and that in the making of the prepared Israel of Christ's\ntime, the law in its fullest and most developed shape was, and had\nbeen for ages, a paramount influence. No influence more concentrated\nand potent can be found in history. And to see the deepest drift of it\nwe have no need to speculate on what might have been, or was sure to\nbe. Historical documents point us to what was. The Epistles to the\nRomans and the Galatians, and the Epistle to the Hebrews, lay open\nrespectively two ways of its working. On the one side it appears as a\ngreat witness for righteousness. Men were schooled to live under a\nsense of peremptory obligation; to comply scrupulously, exactly,\nsubmissively with an unquestioned authority. This sense and temper is\nliable to great abuse: it lends itself when abused to a mechanical\nmorality, to a morbid casuistry, to the complacency of an external\nperfectness. It was so abused very widely among the Jews. But it is\nnevertheless an indispensable factor in a true morality, to which it\nlends the special power of command: and in Israel it conferred this\npower because it connected obligation with the will of a righteous\nGod. This is expressed in the repeated sanction 'I am the Lord your\nGod,' following precept after precept of the law, and in the summary\nclaim 'Be ye holy, for I am holy.' Evidently here there is that which\ntranscends all mechanical schemes of obedience; there is an infinite\nstandard. As such it pointed and impelled onwards towards the true\nreligion in which faith and holiness should be entirely at one. As\nsuch meanwhile it stimulated and dismayed the deeper spirits:\nstimulating them by the loftiness of its demand, dismaying them by the\nproved impossibility of that perfect compliance which alone was\ncompliance at all. Thus the foundations were laid of a temper at once\nrobust and humble, confident and diffident; though they were laid upon\na contradiction which the law had in itself no power to resolve. There\nwas indeed (here we take up the guidance of the Epistle to the\nHebrews) one part of the law which acknowledged that contradiction,\nwhich half promised to resolve it, but having no real power to do so,\ncould only shape and deepen the demand for some solution. This was, of\ncourse, the sacrificial system. The sacrificial system opens up quite\nother thoughts from those of strict demand and strict obedience. It\npoints to quite another side of religious and moral development. Yet\nit starts from the same truth of a Holy God Who requires, and inasmuch\nas He is holy must require, a perfect obedience. Only it acknowledges\nthe inevitable fact of disobedience. It embodies the sense of need. It\nappeals to, and as part of the Divine law it reveals, a quality in the\nSupreme Goodness which can go beyond commanding and condemning, to\nforgive and reconcile. It creates in a word the spirit of humility,\nand it feels, at the least, after a God of love.\n\nWhat a profound preparation there is in this for the life which Christ\nblessed in the Beatitudes and inaugurated by all that He was and did,\nand for the truth of the Divine being and character which was set\nforth in Him. Yet the law only prepared for this, and made the demand\nwhich this met. It made no answer to its own demand. It could not\nreconcile its own severity, and its own hopes of mercy: its apparatus\nof sacrifice was in itself absolutely and obviously insufficient for\nany solution of the contradiction. It was a marvellous discipline\nwhich, while it trained its people so far, demanded the more urgently\nsomething which all its training could never give nor reach.\n\n(_c_) The work of prophecy and the work of the law was also (if we can\ndistinguish causes which were so much affected by one another) the\nwork of history. To the work of the prophets, indeed, the history of\nboth the past and the succeeding times was essential, the former to\nsupply their work with a standing ground, the latter to engrain its\nteaching into the life of the nation. We look back, and we ask, What\ngave the prophets their advantage, what was the fulcrum of their\nlever? Trained to observe the processes of religious evolution, we\nmust refuse to believe with Professor Huxley that a lofty monotheism\nand a noble morality sprang out of the ground among a 'minority of\nBabylonian Jews.' But we shall be prepared to find that the\nrudimentary stages differ much from the mature. The beginnings of\nlife, as we know them, are laid in darkness: they emerge crude and\nchildish: the physical and outward almost conceals the germ of\nspiritual and rational being which nevertheless is the self, and which\nwill increasingly assert itself and rule. It may be so with that\norganism which God was to make the shrine of His Incarnation. We may\nhave to learn that the beginnings of Israel are more obscure, more\nelementary, less distinctive from surrounding religions, than we had\nsupposed. We need not fear to be as bold as Amos in recognising that\nwhat was in one aspect the unique calling of God's Son out of\nEgypt[183] was in another but one among the Divinely ruled processes\nof history, such as brought up the Philistines from Caphtor and the\nSyrians from Kir[184]. We need not be more afraid than Ezekiel to say\nthat the peculiar people were an offshoot (if so it should be) of\nnatural stocks, with the Amorite for father and the Hittite for\nmother[185]. But all this will hardly take from us that sense of\ncontinuous shaping of a thing towards a Divine event which has always\nbeen among the supports of faith. We shall see that the prophetic\nappeals imply a past, and that their whole force lies in what they\nassume, and only recal to their hearers; the special possession of\nIsrael by Jehovah, His selection of them for His own, His deliverances\nof them from Egypt and onwards, giving the earnest of a future purpose\nfor which they were preserved, and for which His definite promises\nwere committed to them, to the seed of Abraham, the house of Israel,\nthe line of David. These things the prophets imply, standing upon\nthese they speak with all the force of those who need only bid the\npeople to realize and to remember, or at most to receive from God some\nfresh confirmation and enlargement of their hopes[186].\n\nOr again, from the work of the prophets we look forward, and when we\nhave recovered from our surprise at seeing that a dreary interval of\nfive centuries separates the Evangelical prophecy, which seemed so\nready for the flower of the Gospel, from the time of its blooming, we\ndiscern how the processes of that interval were utilized in realizing,\ningraining, diffusing the great truths of prophetic teaching. The\nreturn without a monarchy and under an ecclesiastical governor, and\nthe dispersion through many lands, necessitated in act that\ntransformation of the political into the spiritual polity, almost of\nthe nation into the Church, of which Isaiah's work was the germ. The\ninstitution of the synagogues, which belongs to this time and in which\npublic worship was detached from all local associations and from the\nancient forms of material sacrifice, was, as it were, the spiritual\norgan of the new ubiquitous cosmopolitan Jewish life. Yet\ncontemporaneously the centralizing influences gained strength. The\nconservative work of Ezra and of the Scribes and Rabbis at whose head\nhe stands, gathered up and preserved the treasures which gave a\nconsciously spiritual character to Israel's national loyalty; and\nguarded with the hedge of a scrupulous literalism, what needed some\nsuch defence to secure it against the perils implied in being carried\nwide over the world. By the resistance in Palestine under Syrian rule\nto Hellenizing insolence, and in the Dispersion to the fascinations\nand pleasures of Hellenizing culture, and by the great Maccabean\nstruggle, the nation was identified with religious earnestness and\nzeal in a way of which we only see the caricature and distortion in\nthe Pharisaism which our Lord denounced.\n\nThus, if we compare our Lord's time with the great age of prophecy, we\nsee how much has been acquired. Time has been given for the prophetic\ninfluences to work. There has been loss, but there has also been gain.\nThat conscious, explicit, and magnificently uncompromising Monotheism,\nwhich in the mouth of the Evangelical prophet was quivering with the\nglow and passion of freshly inspired realization, has by 'the end of\nthe age' had time to bring everything in the sphere of religion under\nits influence. It had discovered its points of contact with the\nhighest aspirations of the Greek thought which on intellectual lines\nfelt its way towards God. And it had unfolded its own corollaries: it\nhad drawn along with it the great spiritual truths which cohere with\nthe belief in one Living and True God: and Israel in the Pharisee\nepoch had passed, we hardly know how, into secure if not undisputed\npossession of the belief in a future life, in a world of spirits, and\nin the spiritual character of prayer.\n\nBut there was another and more direct manner, in which the work of\nhistory interlaced with what we have indicated as the work of the law.\nIn the formation of the temper of chastened confidence which is so\ncharacteristic of later Israel, a part must evidently be given to the\ndiscipline of national experience saddened by departed glory, and with\nthe shadows thickening over it. Just as we can see that the\npopulations of the Empire were in a sense more ready to learn of\nChrist than the young self-reliant Greeks of Sparta or Athens could\nhave been, so we can see in such language as that of the 119th Psalm\nor of the 9th chapter of Daniel a temper to which the meek and lowly\nChrist would make an appeal which might have been lost upon the rough\ntimes of the judges or the prosperous age of the monarchy. Old age has\ncome and with it the wisdom of a chastened spirit. This is not\ndifficult to see, and it is important to take it into account. It\nmeans that the comparatively normal discipline of life has brought\nwith it (as doubtless it is meant to do alike in personal and national\nlife) a spiritual gain. But it is important to see how much of the\nprocess and the effect remains unexplained. The chastening is obvious,\nbut whence the confidence?\n\nIt is in some far less normal cause, in something which seems\ndistinctive of Israel, that we have to find the adequate explanation\nof the whole result. We have to ask (as Pascal so keenly felt[187])\nwhy a nation records its failures and misfortunes as being\nchastisements of wilful, repeated, and disgraceful fault, and then\njealously guards the record as its most cherished possession. It would\nbe easy to suggest that there is in this an egotism clothing itself in\nhumility: and to point out that this egotism would explain the\nconfidence which still looked forward to the future, which anticipated\ngreatness for an 'afflicted and poor people,' and a blessing to all\nthe nations of the earth from its own history. Only this is just to\nslur the difficulty, and under the invidious word 'egotism' to\ndisguise that wonderful instinct of a destiny and a mission which is\nso strangely unlike egotism, and which allowed, or even produced, in\nso profound a form the self-condemnation which egotism refuses.\n\nDoubtless the effects of these preparing forces were felt, and their\nmeanings discerned, only by a few. Not only were they 'not all Israel\nthat were of Israel,' but the bulk of the nation and its\nrepresentative and official leaders were blind. They were off the way,\ndown the false tracks of literalist Rabbinism, or of one-sided Essene\nasceticism, or of earthly visions of a restored kingdom, or (as in\nAlexandria) of a philosophized Judaism. The issues were the\ncrucifixion of the Lord, and all which Judaism, without and within the\nChurch, did to extinguish the Gospel and persecute its followers in\nits first age. It is right to refer to this, but there are probably\nfew to whom it would cause any difficulty. To the observer of the\nworld's history it is a common sight that the true issues and the\ndistinctive work of a people is worked out not by the many or by the\nprominent, but by the few, and often the obscure. To the student of\nJewish history that which has made Israel what it is in\nworld-significance appears throughout the course of its history as a\ngold thread running through a web of very different texture. It can be\nno surprise that the end should be of a piece with the rest. There, in\na climax of sharpest contrast, we see the antithesis which marks the\nhistory throughout. The training issues in a S.\u00a0Mary, a Simeon, in\nthose who 'waited for the consolation of Israel' on the one side, and\nin the 'Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites,' on the other. The natural\nissue of Israel's life and tendencies is seen in the cold and sterile\nimpotence which, because it is the 'corruption of the best,' is the\nmost irreversible spiritual ruin; while beside and amidst this there\nwas fashioned by a grace and power above nature, though in a perfectly\nnatural way, the true Israel which realize all that 'Israel according\nto the flesh' professed yet betrayed, guarded yet obscured. And if we\nhave at all rightly discerned as a principle of Divine preparation\nthat it should be negative as well as positive, and should demonstrate\nto the world before Christ was given, how little the world's own\nwisdom or effort could supply His place: we shall not wonder that time\nwas thus given for Israel to try out as it were its second experiment,\nand to shew that by its selfishness and arrogance, by its\n'carnalness,' it could warp and distort its later spiritual\nconstitution, even more than its former temporal one, out of all\nlikeness of what God would have it be. 'The last state of the man' was\n'worse than the first[188].'\n\nBut the observation of these predominant currents and forms of Jewish\nlife and thought and religion has this further value, that it shews\nthe variety, the energy, and the unlikeness to one another of the\ntendencies present in Israel. They emphasize the fact that the history\nof Israel was in no sense working itself out towards the _production_\nby its own forces of the true religion which went forth from the midst\nof it. They remind us how intractable the problem of finding by human\ningenuity the solution which could harmonize in one issue elements so\npowerful and so alien from each other; which with a perfect spiritual\nliberty could combine an assertion of the permanent value of the law;\nwhich with no withdrawal from and despair of the world could secure\nall that was sought by Essene purity and self-denial; which, itself\nutterly unworldly, could satisfy the idea of a restored monarchy and a\nglory for Israel; which while bringing no philosophy could achieve\nwhat Jewish philosophizing had desired, in a capture of the world's\nreason by Jewish truth.\n\n\nIII. In the last words we touch that with which this essay may perhaps\nfitly end. If its drift has been in any sense true, there stands\nbefore us, as perhaps the most striking feature of the whole\nsituation, the co-existence of the two preparations, the one general,\nindirect, contributory, and consisting only in an impressive\nconvergence and centering of the lines of ordinary historical\nsequences; the other special, directly introductory, and characterized\nby the presence of a distinctive power, call it what we may, a genius\nfor religion, or more truly and adequately a special grace of the\nSpirit of God, which is new and above ordinary experience, even as\nlife is when it enters the rest of nature, and reason is when it\nappears in the world of life. The two preparations pursue their course\nunconscious of one another, almost exclusive of one another. Greek\nwisdom and Roman power have no dream of coming to receive from the\nnarrow national cult of humbled and subject Israel. And Israel, even\ntaught by the great prophets, could hardly find a place in her vision\nof the future for any destiny of the nations of the world. To this\nantagonism, or more strictly this ignoring of one another, there are\nexceptions, exceptions of the kind which emphasize the character of\nthe situation which they hardly modify. Two streams of such force and\nvolume as those of Jewish religion and classical life or culture could\nnot touch and leave one another altogether uninfluenced, though the\ninfluence was characteristically different. On the side of the world\nthe spiritual needs of individuals caused numbers, not inconsiderable,\nto receive influences which made them ready to act as seeding ground\nand ferment for the Gospel. On the side of Israel, the strong sense of\nmission and of truth made the contact with Greek culture suggest the\nambition to use it as a great instrument, to teach it to acknowledge\nand witness to the God of Israel, who was God of the whole earth: and\nthe results, in the Greek of the Septuagint and in the Helleno-Judaic\nwritings of Alexandria and elsewhere, were invaluable in fashioning\nlanguage and thought for Christ's service. But all the more\ndistinctly, in the first case, does the antagonism, the gulf fixed,\nthe mutual aversion, the impossibility humanly speaking of fusion\nbetween Jew and Gentile come out before our eyes. And, in the second\ncase, the unreal romancings of the Sibylline works, the apparently\nisolated work of Philo, and the opportunism of a politician like\nJosephus, have all the character of hybrids, and shew no sign of the\nvital fusion by which out of a great wedlock a new thing comes to be.\n\nThe two preparations stand apart: they go their own way. There is\nindeed in them a strange parallelism of common human experience and\nhuman need. Both have tried their experiments, made their ventures,\nwon their successes, gone through their disciplines of disenchantment\nand failure. Both are conscious of the dying of life: in Israel there\nis 'no prophet more'; outside it philosophy has not the creativeness\nand energy of youth but the quiet acquiescence and mild prudence of\nage, and life, public and private, is without adequate scope or aim.\nIn both the 'tendencies towards' a Gospel are as far as possible from\nmaking a 'tendency to produce' one. In both there is the same desire\nfor which the Jew alone can find conscious expression: it is 'Quicken\nme!' Both need life. Both have no help in themselves. But in the lines\nwhich they follow and the hopes which they frame there is neither\nlikeness nor compatibility. 'The Greeks seek after wisdom[189].' The\nintellect, and those who are distinctively men of the intellect, can\nhardly imagine human advance otherwise than in terms of the intellect.\nPhilosophy conceives of it as a conquest of philosophical result, or\neven as an increase of philosophical material. It is the pain of an\nadvanced and critical time, like that of which we speak, to feel this,\nand yet to feel that the experiments of speculation have gone far\nenough to shew that by none of their alternative ways can there be any\nway out to the peace of certain truth. And yet it seems that, without\nabdication of reason, there is no possibility of going any other way:\nthe Greeks (and in this sense all the world was Greek) could only look\nfor what they wanted in the form of a new philosophy.\n\nBut 'the Jews require a sign.' Totally different, but equally\nexclusive, were the conditions under which the Jew could conceive of a\nnew epoch. The dread of exhausted resources did not haunt him, for he\nlooked not to human capacity but to Divine gift and interposition. But\nhe thought that he knew the form in which such interposition would\ncome; it was not to be primarily a teaching, (it is the Samaritan and\nnot the Jew who is recorded as expecting in Messiah one who, 'when He\nis come, will tell us all things[190]'); it must appear in action,\n'with observation[191],' with pomp and scenic display, with signs, and\nsigns which, in a very visible and tangible sense, should seem to be\nfrom heaven[192], in particular with circumstances of triumph and\nconquest, and with an exaltation of Israel to the glories of her\nmonarchy many times enlarged.\n\nSuch are the demands; the things sought and needed; the conditions\nprescribed; definite, severally uncompromising, mutually unlike, and\neven conflicting. And then from out of Israel, without moral or\npolitical earthquake, without overwhelming display of supernatural\nforce, nay even, to a superficial eye, with all the appearance of\nweakness and failure, without any rescue for Israel, with no attempt\nto present itself in philosophical form, with none of the strain and\nelaboration of a conscious effort to combine many in one, but rather\nwith a paradoxical and offending 'simplicity' and 'foolishness' of\nmere assertion:--there comes forth a Thing in which on the one side\nJews--whom we all recognise to be the best Jews, Jews in the truest\nand deepest sense--find the whole spirit and meaning, even down to its\ndetail, of the life and the hope of Israel summed up and fulfilled;\nwhich left them no sense of disappointment, but rather a consciousness\nof having had hopes only too narrow and low; which gave them the\nexulting sense of 'reigning as kings,' with a 'King of Israel': while\non the other side this same Thing was felt by 'Greeks' as a 'wisdom'\nflooding their reasons with a light of truth and wisdom (_sophia_),\nwhich met the search of philosophy (_philo-sophia_)[193], but also in\nsimple and wise alike drew forth and ministered to needs which\nphilosophy had but half seen and wholly failed to satisfy, enabling\nconscience to be candid and yet at peace, building up a new\ncosmopolitan fellowship, and restoring to human life dignity and\nvalue, not only in phrase and theory, but in truth. 'There came forth\na Thing,' or rather there came forth One, in Whom all this was done.\nThe question rises, 'Whom say we that He is?' And though the answer\nmust be reached in different ways by different men, and the witness to\nHim in Whom is the sum of all, must needs be of many kinds; yet the\nconvergence of many lines (as we have been permitted to trace it) to\nOne in whom they are all combined and yet transcended, to One whom\nthey can usher in but were powerless to produce, may be no slight\ncorroboration of the answer which was accepted, as we have to\nremember, by the lowly Jesus with significant solemnity: 'Thou art the\nChrist,' the Fulfiller of all high and inspired Jewish hope; 'the Son\nof the Living God[194],' His Son,--as the Son of Man, in whom all that\nis human reaches fulness; and as the Son of God, who brings down to\nman what he has been allowed to prove to himself that he cannot\ndiscover or create.\n\n[150] S.\u00a0Matt. xiii.\u00a052; v.\u00a017.\n\n[151] S.\u00a0Matt. xxi.\u00a033-38.\n\n[152] S.\u00a0Matt. v.\u00a012; xxiii.\u00a030-37.\n\n[153] S.\u00a0Mark xiv.\u00a049; S.\u00a0Luke xxii.\u00a037.\n\n[154] S.\u00a0Luke xxiv.\u00a025, 26, 44.\n\n[155] Gal. iv.\u00a09.\n\n[156] Rom. xvi.\u00a026. So the pages of the early apologists are to our\nfeeling almost cumbered by the profuseness of their appeal to these\nScriptures.\n\n[157] S.\u00a0John i.\u00a01, 14, 9, 10.\n\n[158] _Ep._ cii.\u00a012.\n\n[159] _De Carne Christi_ vi. Eum Christum qui jam tunc et adloqui ...\nhumanum genus ediscebat in carnis habitu: cp. _adv. Prax._ xvi.\nediscebat Deus in terris cum hominibus conversari.\n\n[160] S.\u00a0Matt. xi.\u00a04, 5; xii.\u00a039; xvi.\u00a03.\n\n[161] Hdt. i.\u00a0142.\n\n[162] Clem. Alex. _Protrept._ cx. init.\n\n[163] 1\u00a0Cor. i.\u00a021.\n\n[164] Wordsworth, _Excursion_ iv.\n\n[165] \u1f08\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03be\u03af\u03b1 (Epicurean): \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03ac\u03c1\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1.\n\n[166] The words 'era of Christianity' are used intentionally rather\nthan the more precise 'era of Christ,' because anything which (without\nbeing influenced unless in the most impalpable way by Christianity)\nprepared the world through the first and even the second century of\nthe era to receive the Gospel may be fairly included as preparation\nfor the revelation of Christ.\n\n[167] Capes, _Age of Antonines_.\n\n[168] _Philosophy of the Greeks: Eclectics_, p. 20 (tr. Alleyne).\n\n[169] _Gospel of the Resurrection_ (3rd ed.), p. 72. It is interesting\nto notice that according to so dispassionate an observer as M. Gaston\nBoissier (_La Religion Romaine d'Auguste aux Antonins_), who has done\nso much to trace the better tendencies of the Imperial period, the\nevidence suggests some such distinction, even as regards some of the\nmain practical results of Christianity. For example, there was a\ntendency to ameliorate slavery on principles of general humanity, but\nthere was no hint of a possibility of an end to slavery. There were\nsome signs of mutual interest between classes, but no progress towards\nthe effective appearance of a true philanthropy such as the Christian.\nIn such cases, however, the validity of the distinctions must be\ndebatable and fluctuating. It is absolute as regards the Incarnation.\n\n[170] Bk. V. c. xi. _The New Monarchy._\n\n[171] Edersheim's _Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah_: Sch\u00fcrer,\n_History of the Jewish People in the time of Jesus Christ_.\n\n[172] Sch\u00fcrer, II. ii.\u00a0273.\n\n[173] Sch\u00fcrer, II. ii.\u00a0297.\n\n[174] Tac. _Hist._ v.\u00a04.\n\n[175] Sch\u00fcrer, II. ii.\u00a0308.\n\n[176] Acts xvii.\u00a05, xiv.\u00a05, xiii.\u00a050, 44.\n\n[177] Acts xiii.\u00a043, &c.\n\n[178] Acts xv.\u00a021.\n\n[179] Isaiah xxxvi.\u00a018.\n\n[180] _Hibbert Lectures_, 1882, p. 231.\n\n[181] _Nineteenth Century_, April, 1886.\n\n[182] Isaiah x.\u00a015; xi.\u00a01; Zeph. iii.\u00a012.\n\n[183] Hosea xi.\u00a01.\n\n[184] Amos ix.\u00a07.\n\n[185] Ezekiel xvi.\u00a03.\n\n[186] It is interesting to note that, according to the record\npreserved by Israel of their own history, that which Kuenen says of\nlater time,--that 'at each turning-point of the history stands a man\nwho claims to bring a word from God.'--is exactly true of the older\nhistory too; Abraham, Moses, Samuel, David, are all in this sense\nprophets. Yet there is no appearance of a later age forming a past in\nits own likeness. The prophets do not imagine an earlier row of\nprophets like themselves, put in like the portraits of the early\nScottish kings at Holyrood, to fill the blanks of history. The early\nfigures are not cut to prophetic pattern; they have each their\ndistinct individuality of character and office, only they have a unity\nof Divine commission and service.\n\n[187] _Pens\u00e9es_, ii, 7 \u00a7 2.\n\n[188] S.\u00a0Matt. xii 45. It should be observed that the words were\nspoken of 'this wicked generation.'\n\n[189] 1\u00a0Cor. i.\u00a022.\n\n[190] S.\u00a0John iv.\u00a025.\n\n[191] S.\u00a0Luke xvii.\u00a020.\n\n[192] S.\u00a0Matt. xii.\u00a038; S.\u00a0John vi.\u00a030, 31, in each case following\nsome of our Lord's own signs.\n\n[193] This comes before us vividly in Justin Martyr's account of his\nown conversion. _Dial. c. Tryph._ 3 ff. 'Thus and for this reason I am\na philosopher.'\n\n[194] S.\u00a0Matt. xvi.\u00a016.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\n_THE INCARNATION AND DEVELOPMENT._\n\nJ. R. ILLINGWORTH.\n\n\nI. The last few years have witnessed the gradual acceptance by\nChristian thinkers of the great scientific generalization of our age,\nwhich is briefly, if somewhat vaguely, described as the Theory of\nEvolution. History has repeated itself, and another of the\n'oppositions of science' to theology has proved upon inquiry to be no\nopposition at all. Such oppositions and reconciliations are older than\nChristianity, and are part of what is often called the dialectical\nmovement; the movement, that is to say, by question and answer, out of\nwhich all progress comes. But the result of such a process is\nsomething more than the mere repetition of a twice-told tale. It is an\nadvance in our theological thinking; a definite increase of insight; a\nfresh and fuller appreciation of those 'many ways' in which 'God\nfulfils Himself.' For great scientific discoveries, like the\nheliocentric astronomy, are not merely new facts to be assimilated;\nthey involve new ways of looking at things. And this has been\npre-eminently the case with the law of evolution; which, once\nobserved, has rapidly extended to every department of thought and\nhistory, and altered our attitude towards all knowledge. Organisms,\nnations, languages, institutions, customs, creeds, have all come to be\nregarded in the light of their development, and we feel that to\nunderstand what a thing really is, we must examine how it came to be.\nEvolution is in the air. It is the category of the age; a 'partus\ntemporis'; a necessary consequence of our wider field of comparison.\nWe cannot place ourselves outside it, or limit the scope of its\noperation. And our religious opinions, like all things else that have\ncome down on the current of development, must justify their existence\nby an appeal to the past.\n\nIt is the object of the following pages to consider what popular\nmisconceptions of the central doctrine of our religion, the\nIncarnation, have been remedied; what more or less forgotten aspects\nof it have been restored to their due place; what new lights have been\nthrown upon the fulness of its meaning, in the course of our\ndiscussion of the various views of evolution.\n\nIn face of the historical spirit of the age, the study of past\ntheology can never again be regarded as merely a piece of religious\nantiquarianism. And there are two classes of mind to which it should\nbe of especial service. Many an earnest worker in the Christian cause,\nconscious how little the refinements of philosophy can influence for\ngood or evil the majority of men, and generously impatient of all\nlabour wasted, when the labourers are so few, is apt to under-estimate\nwhat he considers the less practical departments of theology;\nforgetful that there are souls, and those among the noblest, to whom\nthe primary avenue of access is the intellect, and who can only be led\nhomeward by the illuminative way. The Christian of this type may be\nmaterially helped towards welcoming wider views, by being convinced\nthat what he has been too easily apt to regard as metaphysical\nsubtleties, or as dangerous innovations, or as questionable\naccommodations of the Gospel to the exigencies of passing controversy,\nare after all an integral part of the great Catholic tradition. On the\nother hand, many plausible attacks upon the Christian creed are due to\nthe inadequate methods of its professed interpreters. Fragments of\ndoctrine, torn from their context and deprived of their due\nproportions, are brandished in the eyes of men by well-meaning but\nignorant apologists as containing the sum total of the Christian\nfaith, with the lamentable consequence that even earnest seekers after\ntruth, and much more its unearnest and merely factious adversaries,\nmislead themselves and others into thinking Christianity discredited,\nwhen in reality they have all along been only criticising its\ncaricature. Such men need reminding that Christianity is greater than\nits isolated interpreters or misinterpreters in any age; that in the\ncourse of its long history it has accumulated answers to many an\nobjection which they in their ignorance think new; and that, in the\nconfidence of its universal mission and the memory of its many\nvictories, it still claims to be sympathetic, adequate, adaptable to\nthe problems and perplexities of each successive age.\n\nThe general tendency of thought since the Reformation has been in the\ndirection of these partial presentations of Christianity. The\nReformers, from various causes, were so occupied with what is now\ncalled Soteriology, or the scheme of salvation, that they paid but\nscant attention to the other aspects of the Gospel. And the\nconsequence was that a whole side of the great Christian tradition,\nand one on which many of its greatest thinkers had lavished the\nlabours of a lifetime, was allowed almost unconsciously to lapse into\ncomparative oblivion; and the religion of the Incarnation was narrowed\ninto the religion of the Atonement. Men's views of the faith dwindled\nand became subjective and self-regarding, while the gulf was daily\nwidened between things sacred and things secular; among which latter,\nart and science, and the whole political and social order, gradually\ncame to be classed.\n\nFar otherwise was it with the great thinkers of the early Church; and\nthat not from an under-estimate of the saving power of the Cross,\nwhich was bearing daily fruit around them, of penitence, and sanctity,\nand martyrdom; but from their regarding Christian salvation in its\ncontext. They realized that redemption was a means to an end, and that\nend the reconsecration of the whole universe to God. And so the very\ncompleteness of their grasp on the Atonement led them to dwell upon\nthe cosmical significance of the Incarnation, its purpose to 'gather\ntogether all things in one.' For it was an age in which the problems\nof the universe were keenly felt. Philosophical thinking, if less\nmature, was not less exuberant than now, and had already a great past\nbehind it. And the natural world, though its structural secrets were\nlittle understood, fascinated the imagination and strained the heart\nwith its appealing beauty. Spiritualism, superstition, scepticism,\nwere tried in turn but could not satisfy. The questionings of the\nintellect still pressed for a solution. And the souls of Christians\nwere stirred to proclaim that the new power which they felt within\nthem, restoring, quickening, harmonizing the whole of their inner\nlife, would also prove the key to all these mysteries of matter and of\nmind.\n\nSo it was that the theology of the Incarnation was gradually drawn\nout, from the teaching of S.\u00a0Paul and of S.\u00a0John. The identity of Him\nWho was made man and dwelt among us, with Him by Whom all things were\nmade and by Whom all things consist; His eternal pre-existence as the\nreason and the word of God, the Logos; His indwelling presence in the\nuniverse as the source and condition of all its life, and in man as\nthe light of His intellectual being; His Resurrection, His\nAscension,--all these thoughts were woven into one magnificent\npicture, wherein creation was viewed as the embodiment of the Divine\nideas, and therefore the revelation of the Divine character;\nmanifesting its Maker with increasing clearness at each successive\nstage in the great scale of being, till in the fulness of time He\nHimself became man, and thereby lifted human nature, and with it the\nmaterial universe to which man is so intimately linked; and triumphing\nover the sin and death under which creation groaned and travailed,\nopened by His Resurrection and then by His Ascension vistas of the\nglorious destiny purposed for His creatures before the world was.\n'Factus est quod sumus nos, uti nos perficeret esse quod est\nipse[195].'\n\nSuch is the view of the Incarnation in what may be called its\nintellectual aspect, which we find gradually expressed with increasing\nclearness by the Fathers, from Justin to Athanasius. And with all its\ndeep suggestiveness, it is still a severely simple picture, drawn in\nbut few outlines, and those strictly scriptural. It was born of no\nabstract love of metaphysic, and stands in striking contrast to the\nwild speculations of the time. Its motive and its method were both\nintensely practical; its motive being to present Christianity to the\nmind as well as to the heart; and its method no more than to connect\nand interpret and explain the definite statements of S.\u00a0Paul and\nS.\u00a0John. Passing over the dark ages, when thought was in comparative\nabeyance, and the energies of the Church absorbed in the work of\nconversion and organization, we come, in the twelfth and following\ncenturies, to a second period of intellectual ferment, less brilliant\nthan that which characterized the decadence of the old civilization,\nbut instinct with all the fire and restlessness of youth. Unsobered as\nyet by experience, and unsupplied with adequate material from without,\nthought preyed upon itself and revelled in its new-found powers of\nspeculation. Fragments of the various heresies which the Fathers had\nanswered and outlived reappeared with all the halo of novelty around\nthem. Religions were crudely compared and sceptical inferences drawn.\nPopular unbelief, checked in a measure by authority, avenged itself by\nridicule of all things sacred. It was a period of intense intellectual\nunrest, too many-sided and inconsequent to be easily described. But as\nfar as the anti-Christian influences of the time can be summarized\nthey were mainly two:--the Arabic pantheism, and the materialism which\nwas fostered in the medical schools; kindred errors, both concerned\nwith an undue estimate of matter. And how did Christian theology meet\nthem? Not by laying stress, like the later Deists, upon God's infinite\ndistance from the world, but upon the closeness of His intimacy with\nit: by reviving, that is, with increased emphasis the Patristic\ndoctrine of the Incarnation, as the climax and the keystone of the\nwhole visible creation. There is a greater divergence of opinion,\nperhaps, among the Schoolmen than among the Fathers; and a far greater\namount of that unprofitable subtlety for which they are apt to be\nsomewhat too unintelligently ridiculed. But on the point before us, as\non all others of primary importance, they are substantially unanimous,\nand never fail in dignity.\n\n'As the thought of the Divine mind is called the Word, Who is the Son,\nso the unfolding of that thought in external action (per opera\nexteriora) is named the word of the Word[196].'\n\n'The whole world is a kind of bodily and visible Gospel of that Word\nby which it was created[197].'\n\n'Every creature is a theophany[198].'\n\n'Every creature is a Divine word, for it tells of God[199].'\n\n'The wisdom of God, when first it issued in creation, came not to us\nnaked, but clothed in the apparel of created things. And then when the\nsame wisdom would manifest Himself to us as the Son of God, and so was\nseen of men[200].'\n\n'The Incarnation is the exaltation of human nature and consummation of\nthe Universe[201].'\n\nSuch quotations might be multiplied indefinitely from the pages of the\nSchoolmen and scholastic theologians. And the line of thought which\nthey indicate seems to lead us by a natural sequence to view the\nIncarnation as being the predestined climax of creation, independently\nof human sin. The thought is of course a mere speculation, 'beyond\nthat which is written,' but from its first appearance in the twelfth\ncentury it has been regarded with increasing favour; for it is full of\nrich suggestiveness, and seems to throw a deeper meaning into all our\ninvestigations of the world's gradual development.\n\nAgain, from the relation of the Word to the universe follows His\nrelation to the human mind. For 'that life was the light of men.'\n\n'The created intellect is the imparted likeness of God,' says\nS.\u00a0Thomas; and again, 'Every intellectual process has its origin in\nthe Word of God Who is the Divine Reason.' 'The light of intellect is\nimprinted upon us by God Himself (immediate a Deo).' 'God continually\nworks in the mind, as being both the cause and the guide of its\nnatural light.' 'In every object of sensitive or rational experience\nGod Himself lies hid[202].' All intelligences know God implicitly, in\nevery object of their knowledge[203].' 'Christ is our internal\nteacher, and no truth of any kind is known but through Him; though He\nspeaks not in language as we do, but by interior illumination[204].'\n'The philosophers have taught us the sciences, for God revealed them\nto them[205].'\n\n\nII. The point to be noticed in the teaching of which such passages are\nscattered samples, is that the Schoolmen and orthodox mystics of the\nmiddle age, with Pantheism, materialism, rationalism surging all\naround them, and perfectly conscious of the fact, met these errors,\nnot by denying the reality of matter, or the capacity of reason, as\nlater apologists have often done, but by claiming for both a place in\nthe Theology of the Word. And this Theology of the Word was, in\nreality, quite independent of, and unaffected by, the subtleties and\nfallacies and false opinions of the age, cobwebs of the unfurnished\nintellect which time has swept away. It was a magnificent framework,\noutside and above the limited knowledge of the day and the\npeculiarities of individual thinkers; an inheritance from the\nPatristic tradition, which the Fathers, in their turn, had not\ninvented, but received as Apostolic doctrine from Apostolic men, and\nonly made more explicit by gradual definition, during centuries when,\nit has been fairly said, 'the highest reason, as independently\nexercised by the wise of the world, was entirely coincident with the\nhighest reason as inspiring the Church[206].' We have now to consider\nwhether this view of the Incarnation, which, though in the countries\nmost influenced by the Reformation it has dropped too much out of\nsight, has yet never really died out of the Church at large, is in any\nway incompatible with the results of modern science; or whether, on\nthe contrary, it does not provide an outline to which science is\nslowly but surely giving reality and content.\n\nAnd at the outset we must bear in mind one truth which is now\nrecognised on all sides as final--viz. that the finite intellect\ncannot transcend the conditions of finitude, and cannot therefore\nreach, or even conceive itself as reaching, an absolute, or, in\nKantian phraseology, a speculative knowledge of the beginning of\nthings. Whatever strides science may make in time to come towards\ndecomposing atoms and forces into simpler and yet simpler elements,\nthose elements will still have issued from a secret laboratory into\nwhich science cannot enter, and the human mind will be as far as ever\nfrom knowing what they really are. Further, this initial limitation\nmust of necessity qualify our knowledge in its every stage. If we\ncannot know the secret of the elements in their simplicity, neither\ncan we know the secret of their successive combinations. Before the\nbeginning of our present system, and behind the whole course of its\ncontinuous development, there is a vast region of possibility, which\nlies wholly and for ever beyond the power of science to affirm or to\ndeny. It is in this region that Christian theology claims to have its\nroots, and of this region that it professes to give its adherents\ncertitude, under conditions and by methods of its own. And of those\nconditions and methods it fearlessly asserts that they are nowise\ninconsistent with any ascertained or ascertainable result of secular\nphilosophy.\n\nAs regards the origin of things, this is obvious. Science may resolve\nthe complicated life of the material universe into a few elementary\nforces, light and heat and electricity, and these perhaps into\nmodifications of some still simpler energy; but of the origin of\nenergy (\u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd) it knows no more than did the Greeks of\nold. Theology asserts that in the beginning was the Word, and in Him\nwas life, the life of all things created: in other words, that He is\nthe source of all that energy, whose persistent, irresistible\nversatility of action is for ever at work moulding and clothing and\npeopling worlds. The two conceptions are complementary, and cannot\ncontradict each other.\n\nBut to pass from the origin to the development of things: the new way\nof looking at nature was thought at first both by its adherents and\nopponents alike to be inimical to the doctrine of final causes. And\nhere was a direct issue joined with Theology at once: for the presence\nof final causes or design in the universe has not only been in all\nages one of the strongest supports for natural religion; it is\ncontained in the very notion of a rational creation, a creation by an\nEternal Reason. And this was supposed to be directly negatived by the\ndoctrine of the survival of the fittest through natural selection: for\nif of a thousand forms, which came by chance into existence, the one\nwhich happened to correspond best with its environment survived, while\nthe remainder disappeared, the adaptation of the survivor to its\ncircumstances would have all the appearance of design, while in\nreality due to accident. If, therefore, this principle acted\nexclusively throughout the universe, the result would be a semblance\nof design without any of its reality, from which no theological\ninference could be drawn. But this consequence of natural selection\nobviously depends upon the exclusiveness of its action. If it is only\none factor among many in the world's development; while there are\ninstances of adaptation in nature, and those the more numerous, for\nwhich it fails to account, what has been called its dysteleological\nsignificance is at an end. Now its own author soon saw and admitted\nthe inadequacy of the theory of natural selection, even in biology,\nthe field of its first observation, to account for all the facts:\nwhile countless phenomena in other regions, such as the mechanical\nprinciples involved in the structure of the universe, the laws of\ncrystallography and chemical combination, the beauty of nature taken\nin connection with its effect upon the mind, irresistibly suggest\ndesign, and render the alternative hypothesis, from its mere\nmathematical improbability, almost inconceivable. And there is now,\ntherefore, a general disposition to admit that the force of this\nparticular attack upon the doctrine of final causes has been\nconsiderably overstated.\n\nBut in the course of its discussion an important difference has been\nbrought to light between external and internal purposes or ends. The\nkind of design in nature which first arrested early thinkers was its\nusefulness to man. Even in scenery, it has been suggested, they saw\nthe utility before the beauty. And so they came to look upon all\nnatural phenomena as having for their final cause the good of man; and\nthe world as a machine, a contrivance of which the parts have no value\nexcept as contributing to the work of the whole, and the whole exists\nonly to produce a result outside and independent of itself, an\nexternal end, as if corn should exist solely to provide food for man.\nThis was not an untrue conception; a shallow thing to say of the\nreason for which Socrates believed in God; but it was partial and\ninadequate, as Bacon and Spinoza shewed. And we have now come to\nregard the world not as a machine, but as an organism, a system in\nwhich, while the parts contribute to the growth of the whole, the\nwhole also reacts upon the development of the parts; and whose primary\npurpose is its own perfection, something that is contained within and\nnot outside itself, an internal end: while in their turn the myriad\nparts of this universal organism are also lesser organisms, ends in\nand for themselves, pursuing each its lonely ideal of individual\ncompleteness. Now when we look at nature in this way, and watch the\ncomplex and subtle processes by which a crystal, a leaf, a lily, a\nmoth, a bird, a star realize their respective ideals with undisturbed,\nunfailing accuracy, we cannot help attributing them to an intelligent\nCreator. But when we further find that in the very course of pursuing\ntheir primary ends, and becoming perfect after their kind, the various\nparts of the universe do in fact also become means, and with infinite\ningenuity of correspondence and adaptation, subserve not only one but\na thousand secondary ends, linking and weaving themselves together by\ntheir mutual ministration into an orderly, harmonious, complicated\nwhole, the signs of intelligence grow clearer still. And when, beyond\nall this, we discover the quality of beauty in every moment and\nsituation of this complex life; the drop of water that circulates from\nsea to cloud, and cloud to earth, and earth to plant, and plant to\nlife-blood, shining the while with strange spiritual significance in\nthe sunset and the rainbow and the dewdrop and the tear; the universal\npresence of this attribute, so unessential to the course of nature,\nbut so infinitely powerful in its appeal to the human mind, is\nreasonably urged as a crowning proof of purposeful design.\n\nThe treatment which these various aspects of teleology have received,\nduring the last few years, may be fairly called exhaustive: and the\nresult of all the sifting controversy has been to place the evidence\nfor design in nature on a stronger base than ever: partly because we\nfeel that we have faced the utmost that can be urged against it;\npartly because, under scientific guidance, we have acquired a more\nreal, as distinct from a merely notional apprehension of the manifold\nadaptations of structure to function, which the universe presents; and\nthese adaptations and correspondences, when grasped in their infinite\nmultiplicity, furnish us with a far worthier and grander view of\nteleology than the mechanical theory of earlier days.\n\nAll this is in perfect harmony with our Christian creed, that all\nthings were made by the Eternal Reason; but more than this, it\nillustrates and is illustrated by the further doctrine of His\nindwelling presence in the things of His creation; rendering each of\nthem at once a revelation and a prophecy, a thing of beauty and\nfinished workmanship, worthy to exist for its own sake, and yet a step\nto higher purposes, an instrument for grander work.\n\n                    God tastes an infinite joy\n  In infinite ways--one everlasting bliss,\n  From whom all being emanates, all power\n  Proceeds: in whom is life for evermore,\n  Yet whom existence in its lowest form\n  Includes; where dwells enjoyment, there is He:\n  With still a flying point of bliss remote,\n  A happiness in store afar, a sphere\n  Of distant glory in full view.\n\nAnd science has done us good service in recalling this doctrine to\nmind. For it has a religious as well as a theological importance,\nconstituting, as it does, the element of truth in that higher\nPantheism which is so common in the present day. Whether the term\nhigher Pantheism is happily chosen or not, the thing which it denotes\nis quite distinct from Pantheism proper, with its logical denial of\nhuman personality and freedom. It is the name of an emotion rather\nthan a creed; that indescribable mystic emotion which the poet, the\nartist, the man of science, and all their kindred feel in\ncontemplating the beauty or the wonder of the world. Vague as it is,\nand indefinite, this sentiment is still one of the strongest of which\nour nature is susceptible, and should be recognised, as an integral\nelement in all true religion. Yet for want of such recognition on the\npart of Christians it is often allowed to gravitate nearer and nearer\nto pure Pantheism, with which it has, in reality, no essential\naffinity. We cannot therefore over-estimate the importance of\nrestoring to its due place in theology the doctrine of the Divine\nimmanence in nature, to which this sentiment is the instinctive\nwitness. Fathers, schoolmen, mystics, who were quite as alive to any\ndanger of Pantheism as ourselves, yet astonish us by the boldness of\ntheir language upon this point; and we need not fear to transgress the\nlimits of the Christian tradition in saying that the physical\nimmanence of God the Word in His creation can hardly be overstated, as\nlong as His moral transcendence of it is also kept in view.\n\n'God dwelleth within all things, and without all things, above all\nthings and beneath all things[207],' says S.\u00a0Gregory the Great.\n\n'The immediate operation of the Creator is closer to everything than\nthe operation of any secondary cause,' says S.\u00a0Thomas[208].\n\nAnd Cornelius a Lapide, after comparing our dependence upon God to\nthat of a ray on the sun, an embryo on the womb, a bird on the air,\nconcludes with the words, 'Seeing then that we _are_ thus united to\nGod physically, we _ought_ also to be united to Him morally[209].'\n\nHere are three typical theologians, in three different ages, not one\nof them a mystic even, using as the language of sober theology words\nevery whit as strong as any of the famous Pantheistic passages in our\nmodern literature; and yet when met with in that literature they are\ncommonly regarded as pleasing expressions of poetic dreams, very far\naway from, if not even inconsistent with what is thought to be\ndogmatic Christianity.\n\nTo sum up then, the reopening of the teleological question has not\nonly led to its fuller and more final answer, but has incidentally\ncontributed to revive among us an important aspect of the Theology of\nthe Word.\n\nThe next point upon which the theory of evolution came in contact with\nreceived opinion, was its account of the origin of man. Man, it was\nmaintained, in certain quarters, was only the latest and most complex\nproduct of a purely material process of development. His reason, with\nall its functions of imagination, conscience, will, was only a result\nof his sensibility, and that of his nervous tissue, and that again of\nmatter less and less finely organized, till at last a primitive\nprotoplasm was reached; while what had been called his fall was in\nreality his rise, being due to the fact that with the birth of reason\ncame self-consciousness; or the feeling of a distinction between self\nand the outer world, ripening into a sense, and strictly speaking an\nillusory sense of discord between the two.\n\nTheologians first thought it necessary to contest every detail of this\ndevelopment, beginning with the antiquity of man; and some are still\ninclined to intrench themselves in one or two positions which they\nthink impregnable, such as the essential difference in kind between\norganized and inorganic matter, or again between animal instinct and\nthe self-conscious reason of man: while others are content to assume a\nsceptical attitude and point to the disagreement between the men of\nscience themselves, as sufficient evidence of their untruth. But none\nof these views are theologically needed. The first is certainly, the\nsecond possibly unsound, and the third, to say the least of it,\nunkind. It is quite true that the evolution of man is at present\nnothing more than an hypothesis, and an hypothesis open to very grave\nscientific objections. The attempts to analyse reason and conscience\nback into unconscious and unmoral elements, for all their unquestioned\ningenuity, are still far from being conclusive; and then there is the\ngeological admissibility of the time which it would require, and that\nis still a matter of hopeless controversy between scientific experts.\nAnd even if these and numerous kindred difficulties were to be removed\nin time to come, the hypothesis would still be no nearer\ndemonstration; for the only evidence we can possibly obtain of\nprehistoric man is his handiwork of one kind or another, his\nimplements or pictures, things implying the use of reason. In other\nwords, we can only prove his existence through his rationality;\nthrough his having been, on the point in question, identical in kind\nwith what now he is. And suspense of judgment therefore upon the whole\ncontroversy is, at present, the only scientific state of mind.\n\nBut there are facts upon the other side; the undoubted antiquity of\nthe human race; the gradual growth which can be scientifically traced,\nin our thought and language and morality, and therefore, to the extent\nthat functions react upon their faculties, even in our conscience and\nour reason too; and then the immense presumption from the gathering\nproofs of all other development, that man will be no exception to the\nuniversal law. All these positive indications at least suggest the\npossibility that the difficulties of the theory may one day vanish,\nand its widest chasms close. And we cannot therefore be too emphatic\nin asserting that theology would have nothing whatever to fear from\nsuch a result. When we see energy and atoms building up an harmonious\norder, we feel there is an inner secret in the energy and atoms, which\nwe cannot hope to penetrate by merely watching them at work. And so,\nwhen we see human minds and wills weaving a veil over the universe, of\nthought and love and holiness, and are told that all these things are\nbut higher modes of material nature, we only feel that the inner\nsecret of material nature must be yet more wonderful than we supposed.\nBut though our wonder may increase, our difficulties will not. If we\nbelieve, as we have seen that Christian Theology has always believed,\nin a Divine Creator not only present behind the beginning of matter\nbut immanent in its every phase, and co-operating with its every\nphenomenon, the method of His working, though full of speculative\ninterest, will be of no controversial importance. Time was when the\ndifferent kinds of created things were thought to be severed by\nimpassable barriers. But many of these barriers have already given way\nbefore science, and species are seen to be no more independent than\nthe individuals that compose them. If the remaining barriers between\nunreason and reason, or between lifelessness and life should in like\nmanner one day vanish, we shall need to readjust the focus of our\nspiritual eye to the enlarged vision, but nothing more. Our Creator\nwill be known to have worked otherwise indeed than we had thought, but\nin a way quite as conceivable, and to the imagination more\nmagnificent. And all is alike covered by the words 'without Him was\nnot anything made that was made: and in Him was life.' In fact the\nevolutionary origin of man is a far less serious question than the\nattack upon final causes. Its biblical aspect has grown insignificant\nin proportion as we have learned to regard the Hebrew cosmology in a\ntrue light. And the popular outcry which it raised was largely due to\nsentiment, and sentiment not altogether untinged by human pride.\n\nWe may pass on therefore from the evolution of man and his mind in\ngeneral, to his various modes of mental activity in science and\nphilosophy and art. Here the Christian doctrine is twofold: first,\nthat all the objects of our thought, mathematical relations,\nscientific laws, social systems, ideals of art, are ideas of the\nDivine Wisdom, the Logos, written upon the pages of the world; and\nsecondly, that our power of reading them, our thinking faculty acts\nand only can act rightly by Divine assistance; that the same 'motion\nand power that impels' 'all objects of all thought' impels also 'all\nthinking things.' And both these statements are met by objection. In\nthe first place, it is urged, there is no fixity in the universe, and\nit cannot therefore be the embodiment of Divine ideas. All things live\nand move under our eyes. Species bear no evidence of having been\ncreated in their completeness; on the contrary they are perpetually\nundergoing transmutation, and cannot therefore represent ideas, cannot\nhave been created on a plan. For ideas, in proportion to their\nperfection, must be definite, clean-cut, clear. The answer to this\nobjection is contained in what has been already said upon the subject\nof organic teleology. But an analogy drawn from human thinking may\nillustrate it further. It is in reality the ideas which our mind has\ndone with, its dead ideas which are clean-cut and definite and fixed.\nThe ideas which at any moment go to form our mental life are quick and\nactive and full of movement, and melt into each other and are ever\ndeveloping anew. A book is no sooner finished and done with, than it\nstrikes its author as inadequate. It becomes antiquated as soon as its\nideas have been assimilated by the public mind. And that because the\nthought of author and public alike is alive, and ever moving onward;\nincapable of being chained to any one mode of expression; incapable of\nbeing stereotyped. The highest notion we can frame therefore of a mind\ngreater than our own is of one that has no dead ideas, no abstract or\nantiquated formulae, but whose whole content is entirely, essentially\nalive. And the perpetual development which we are learning to trace\nthroughout the universe around us would be the natural expression\ntherefore of that Logos Who is the Life.\n\nBut when we turn from the objective to the subjective side of\nknowledge, we are met with a second objection. The doctrine that the\nDivine Logos co-operates with the human reason, is supposed to be\ninconsistent with the undoubted fact that many earnest and successful\nthinkers have been if not atheistic, at least agnostic; unable, that\nis, to attain to the very knowledge to which, as it would seem on the\nChristian hypothesis, all intellectual effort should inevitably lead.\nBut this difficulty is only superficial. When we say that the Divine\nreason assists, we do not mean that it supersedes the human. An\ninitiative still lies with man; and he must choose of his own accord\nthe particular field of his intellectual pursuit. When he has chosen\nhis line of study, and followed it with the requisite devotion, he\nwill arrive at the kind of truth to which that particular study leads,\nthe physicist at laws of nature, the philosopher at laws of thought,\nthe artist at ideal beauty, the moralist at ethical truth: and in each\ncase, as we believe, by Divine assistance, his discoveries being in\nfact revelations. But the method, the education, the experience\ninvolved in different studies are so distinct, that few in a lifetime\ncan reach the eminence that teaches with authority, or even the\nintelligence that thoroughly appreciates, more than one department of\nthe complex world of thought. And if a man wanders from his own\nprovince into unfamiliar regions, he naturally meets with failure in\nproportion to his hardihood. In the case of the special sciences this\nis universally recognised. No astronomer would think of dogmatizing on\na question of geology, nor a biologist on the details of chemistry or\nphysics. But when it is a question between science and philosophy, the\nrule is often forgotten; and the spectacle of scientific specialists\nblundering about in metaphysics is painfully common in the present\nday: while strange to say, in the case of theology this forgetfulness\nreaches a climax, and men claim casually to have an opinion upon\ntranscendent mysteries, without any of the preparation which they\nwould be the first to declare needful for success in the smallest\nsubsection of any one of the branches of science.\n\nNor is preparation all that is wanted. Science is impossible without\nexperiment, and experiment is the lower analogue of what in religion\nis called experience. As experiment alone gives certainty in the one\ncase, so does experience alone in the other. And it is only the man\nwho has undergone such experience, with all its imperative demands\nupon his whole character and life, that can justly expect satisfaction\nof his religious doubts and needs; while only those who, like S.\u00a0Paul\nor S.\u00a0Augustine, have experienced it in an exceptional degree, are\nentitled to speak with authority upon the things to which it leads.\nHere again a human analogy may help us. For in studying a human\ncharacter there are different planes upon which we may approach it.\nThere are the external aspects of the man, the fashion of his\ngarments, the routine of his life, the regulation of his time, his\nofficial habits; all which, it may be noted in passing, in the case of\na great character, are uniform, not because they were not once the\nfree creation of his will, but because he knows the practical value of\nuniformity in all such things; and all these externals are open to the\nobservation even of a stranger. Then there are the man's thoughts,\nwhich may be withheld or revealed at his pleasure; and these can only\nbe understood by kindred minds, who have been trained to understand\nthem. Lastly, there are his will and affections, the region of his\nmotives, the secret chamber in which his real personality resides; and\nthese are only known to those intimate friends and associates whose\nintuition is quickened by the sympathy of love. Now all these stages\nare gone through in the formation of a friendship. First we are struck\nby a man's appearance, and so led to listen to his conversation, and\nthence to make his acquaintance, and at last to become his friend. And\nso with the knowledge of God. The man of science, as such, can\ndiscover the uniformities of His action in external nature. The moral\nphilosopher will further see that these actions 'make for\nrighteousness' and that there is a moral law. But it is only to the\nspiritual yearning of our whole personality that He reveals Himself as\na person. This analogy will make the Christian position intelligible;\nbut for Christians it is more than an analogy. It is simply a\nstatement of facts. For, to Christians, the Incarnation is the final\nsanction of 'anthropomorphism,' revealing the Eternal Word as strictly\na Person, in the ordinary sense and with all the attributes which we\ncommonly attach to the name[210].\n\nConsequently, upon all this we are quite consistent in maintaining\nthat all great teachers of whatever kind are vehicles of revelation,\neach in his proper sphere, and in accepting their verified conclusions\nas Divinely true; while we reject them the moment they transgress\ntheir limits, as thereby convicted of unsound thinking, and therefore\ndeprived of the Divine assistance which was the secret of their\nprevious success. And though such transgression may in many cases\ninvolve a minimum of moral error, there are abundant instances in the\nhistory of thought that it is not always so. Francis Bacon, and the\npenitent, pardoned Abelard are typical, in different degrees, of a\ncountless multitude of lesser men.\n\n'For our knowledge of first principles,' says S.\u00a0Augustine, 'we have\nrecourse to that inner truth that presides over the mind. And that\nindwelling teacher of the mind is Christ, the changeless virtue and\neternal wisdom of God, to which every rational soul has recourse. But\nso much only is revealed to each as his own good or evil will enables\nhim to receive[211].'\n\n'Nor is it the fault of the Word,' adds S.\u00a0Thomas, 'that all men do\nnot attain to the knowledge of the truth, but some remain in darkness.\nIt is the fault of men who do not turn to the Word and so cannot fully\nreceive Him. Whence there is still more or less darkness remaining\namong men, in proportion to the lesser or greater degree in which they\nturn to the Word and receive Him. And so John, to preclude any thought\nof deficiency in the illuminating power of the Word, after saying\n\"that life was the light of men,\" adds \"the light shineth in darkness,\nand the darkness comprehended it not.\" The darkness is not because the\nWord does not shine, but because some do not receive the light of the\nWord; as while the light of the material sun is shining over the\nworld, it is only dark to those whose eyes are closed or feeble[212].'\n\nIt has been necessary to dwell upon this doctrine because it has an\nimportant bearing upon two further questions, which the philosophy of\nevolution has brought into new prominence, the relation of\nChristianity to previous philosophy and other religions. It was the\nfashion, not long ago, to give an undue value to the part played by\nenvironment or surrounding circumstances in the creation of characters\nand institutions and creeds, to the exclusion of all elements of\nnative originality. And the attempt was made accordingly, in various\nways, to represent Christianity as the natural product of the\ndifferent religions and philosophies which were current in the world\nat the time of its appearing. But the further study of evolution has\nqualified this whole mode of thought by the way in which, as we have\nseen above, it has led us to look at things as organisms rather than\nmachines. A machine has no internal principle of unity. Its unity is\nimpressed upon it from without. And it may be granted therefore, for\nthe sake of argument, that we might conceive a machine or number of\nmachines as formed like the patterns in a caleidoscope by a happy\ncoincidence of atoms; and man, if he were only a machine, as strictly\nthe creature of circumstance. But an organism is a different thing.\nDependent as it is upon its environment in an hundred various ways, it\nis yet more dependent upon its own selective and assimilative\ncapacity, in other words upon its own individuality, its self. And so\nthe notions of individuality, originality, personal identity have been\nrestored to their place in the world of thought. The old error lingers\non, and is sometimes crudely re-asserted, especially in its\nanti-Christian bearing; but it has been discredited by science, and is\nin fact a thing of the past. And in consequence of this, the attempt\ncan no longer be plausibly made to account for Christianity apart from\nthe personality of Jesus Christ. The mythical theories have had their\nday. And it is recognised on all hands that mere aspiration can no\nmore create a religion than appetite can create food. A foundation\nneeds a founder.\n\nBut the attack thus diverted from our religion glances off on our\ntheology. The Christian religion, it is granted, was founded by Jesus\nChrist; but its theological interpretation is viewed as a\nmisinterpretation, a malign legacy from the dying philosophies of\nGreece. This objection is as old as the second century, and has been\nrevived at intervals in various forms, and with varying degrees of\nsuccess. Modern historical criticism has only fortified it with fresh\ninstances. But it has no force whatever if we believe that the Divine\nWord was for ever working in the world in co-operation with human\nreason; inspiring the higher minds among the Jews with their thirst\nfor holiness, and so making ready for the coming of the Holy One in\nJewish flesh: but inspiring the Greeks also with their intellectual\neagerness, and preparing them to recognise Him as the Eternal Reason,\nthe Word, the Truth; and to define and defend, and demonstrate that\nTruth to the outer world. The fact that Greek philosophy had passed\nits zenith and was declining did not make its influence upon\nChristianity an evil one, a corruption of the living by the dead. It\nwas only dying to be incorporated in a larger life. The food that\nsupports our existence owes its power of nutrition to the fact, that\nit too once lived with an inferior life of its own. And so the Greek\nphilosophy was capable of assimilation by the Christian organism, from\nthe fact that it too had once been vitally inspired by the life that\nis the light of men. And the true successors of Plato and Aristotle\nwere the men of progress who realized this fact; not Celsus, Lucian,\nPorphyry, but the Fathers of the Church.\n\nClement and Origen, Athanasius and Augustine, the Gregories and Basil\nunderstood Greek philosophy as clearly as S.\u00a0Paul understood Judaism,\nand recognised its completion as plainly in the Incarnation of the\nWord. Nor was this view of the Incarnation in the one case, any more\nthan in the other, assumed for a merely apologetic purpose. These men\nwere essentially philosophers, among the foremost of their age. They\nknew and have testified what philosophy had done for their souls, and\nwhat it could not do; how far it had led them forward; and of what\nlongings it had left them full. True, philosophy had as little\nexpected Wisdom to become incarnate, and that amongst the barbarians,\nthe outcast and the poor, as Judaism had expected Messiah to suffer,\nand to suffer at the hand of Jews. But no sooner was the Incarnation\naccomplished, than it flooded the whole past of Greece no less than\nJudaea with a new light. This was what it all meant; this was what it\nunwittingly aimed at; the long process of dialectic and prophecy were\nhere united in their goal.\n\n'Those who lived under the guidance of the Eternal Reason \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u1f70 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\n\u03b2\u03b9\u03ce\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 as Socrates, Heraclitus, and such-like men, are Christians,'\nrun the well-known words of Justin Martyr, 'even though they were\nreckoned to be atheists in their day.' (Ap. i.\u00a046.) Different minds\nhave always differed, and will continue to differ widely as to the\ndegree in which Greek thought contributed to the doctrines of the\nTrinity and the Incarnation. It is a difficult and delicate question\nfor historical criticism to decide. But the essential thing to bear in\nmind is that the Christian doctrine of the Logos amply covers any\npossible view which criticism may establish upon the point. For, in\nthe light of that doctrine, it is merely a question of the degree in\nwhich the Eternal Word chose to reveal Himself through one agency\nrather than another.\n\nAny attack, therefore, upon our theology for its connection with Greek\nthought, is powerless to disturb us; since we accept the fact but give\nit another, a deeper interpretation: while we rejoice in every fresh\nproof that the great thoughts of the Greek mind were guided by a\nhigher power, and consecrated to a nobler end than ever their authors\ndreamed of; and that the true classic culture is no alien element but\na legitimate ingredient in Catholic, complete Christianity.\n\nAnd the same line of thought gives us a clue to the history of\nreligious development, the latest field to which the philosophy of\nevolution has been extended. For though a superficial comparison of\nreligions, with a more or less sceptical result, has often been\nattempted before, as for instance in the thirteenth century with its\nwell-known story of the three impostors; anything like a scientific\nstudy of them has been impossible till now. For now for the first time\nwe are beginning to have the facts before us; the facts consisting in\nthe original documents of the various historic creeds, and accumulated\nobservations on the religious ideas of uncivilized races. In both\nthese fields very much remains to be done; but still there is enough\ndone already to justify a few generalizations. But the subject is\nintensely complex, and there has been far too great a tendency, as in\nall new sciences, to rush to premature conclusions. For example, there\nis the shallow scepticism which seizes upon facts, like the many\nparallelisms between the moral precepts of earlier religions and the\nsermon on the Mount, as a convincing proof that Christianity contains\nnothing that is new. No serious student of comparative religions would\njustify such an inference; but it is a very common and mischievous\nfallacy in the half-culture of the day. Then there is the rash\northodoxy, that is over eager to accept any result that tallies with\nits own preconceived opinions as, for instance, the belief in a\nprimitive monotheism. No doubt several very competent authorities\nthink that the present evidence points in that direction. But a\nmajority of critics equally competent think otherwise. And meanwhile,\nthere is a mass of evidence still waiting collection and\ninterpretation, which may one day throw further light upon the point.\nUnder such circumstances, therefore, it is as impolitic as it is\nunscientific to identify Christian apology with a position which may\none day prove untenable. Attention has already been called to a\nsimilar imprudence in connection with Biogenesis, and the history of\npast apology is full of warnings against such conduct. Then, again,\nthere is the converse view which is often as glibly stated as if it\nwere already a scientific truism; the view that religion was evolved\nout of non-religious elements, such as the appearance of dead\nancestors in dreams. This rests, to begin with, on the supposition\nthat the opinions of uncivilized man, as we now find him, are the\nnearest to those of man in his primitive condition; which, considering\nthat degradation is a recognised factor in history, and that\ndegradation acts more powerfully in religion than in any other region,\nis a very considerable assumption. But even granting this, the\npsychological possibility of the process in question, as well as the\nlapse of time sufficient for its operation, are both as yet unproved.\nIt is an hypothetical process, happening in an hypothetical period;\nbut, logically considered, nothing more.\n\nAll this should make us cautious in approaching the comparative study\nof religions. Still, even in its present stage, it has reached some\ngeneral results. In the first place, the universality of religion is\nestablished as an empirical fact. Man, with a few insignificant\nexceptions which may fairly be put down to degradation, within the\nlimits of our observation, is everywhere religious. The notion that\nreligion was an invention of interested priestcraft has vanished, like\nmany other eighteenth century fictions, before nineteenth century\nscience. Even in the savage races, where priestcraft is most\nconspicuous, the priest has never created the religion, but always the\nreligion the priest. Beyond this fact it is unsafe to dogmatize. There\nis abundant evidence of early nature-worship in very various forms,\nbut whether this was the degraded offspring of purer conceptions, or\nas is more generally supposed the primitive parent from which those\nconceptions sprang, is still an open question. The universality of the\nfact is all that is certain.\n\nAgain, there is a progressive tendency observable in the religions of\nthe world; but the progress is of a particular kind, and largely\ncounteracted by degeneracy. Individuals elevate, masses degrade\nreligion. There is no progress by insensible modifications; no\nimprovement of a religion in committee. Councils like those of Asoka\nor Chosroes can only sift and popularise and publish what it needed a\nBuddha or Zarathustra to create. And so religion is handed on, from\none great teacher to another, never rising above the level of its\nfounder or last reformer, till another founder or reformer comes;\nwhile in the interval it is materialized, vulgarized, degraded.\n\nAnd from the nature of this progress, as the work of great\nindividuals, another consequence has historically followed; viz. that\nall the pre-Christian religions have been partial, have emphasized,\nthat is to say, unduly if not exclusively one requirement or another\nof the religious consciousness, but never its complex whole. For the\nindividual teacher, however great, cannot proclaim with prophetic\nintensity more than one aspect of a truth; and his followers\ninvariably tend to isolate and exaggerate this aspect, while any who\nattempt to supply its complement are regarded with suspicion. Hence\nthe parties and sects and heresies of which religious history is full.\nThe simplest illustration of this is the fundamental distinction\nbetween Theism and Pantheism, or the transcendence and immanence of\nGod; the one often said to be a Semitic, the other an Aryan tendency\nof thought. But however this may be, both these principles must be\nrepresented in any system which would really satisfy the whole of our\nreligious instincts; while, as a matter of fact, they were separated\nby all the pre-Christian religions, and are separated by Mahometanism\nand Buddhism, the only two religious systems which compete with\nChristianity to-day.\n\nThese, then, are a few broad results of our comparative survey of\nreligions. That religion, however humble the mode of its first\nappearing, is yet universal to man. That it progresses through the\nagency of the great individual, the unique personality, the spiritual\ngenius; while popular influence is a counter-agent and makes for its\ndecay. That its various developments have all been partial, and\ntherefore needed completion, if the cravings of the human spirit were\never to be set at rest.\n\nAnd all this is in perfect harmony with our Christian belief in a God\nWho, from the day of man's first appearance in the dim twilight of the\nworld, left not Himself without witness in sun and moon, and rain and\nstorm-cloud, and the courses of the stars, and the promptings of\nconscience, and the love of kin: and Who the while was lighting every\nman that cometh into the world, the primaeval hunter, the shepherd\nchieftain, the poets of the Vedas and the Gathas, the Chaldaean\nastronomer, the Egyptian priest, each, at least in a measure, to spell\nthat witness out aright; ever and anon when a heart was ready\nrevealing Himself with greater clearness, to one or another chosen\nspirit, and by their means to other men; till at length, in the\nfulness of time, when Jews were yearning for one in whom righteousness\nshould triumph visibly; and Greeks sighing over the divorce between\ntruth and power, and wondering whether the wise man ever would indeed\nbe king; and artists and ascetics wandering equally astray, in vain\nattempt to solve the problem of the spirit and the flesh; 'the Word\nwas made Flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.' The\npre-Christian religions were the age-long prayer. The Incarnation was\nthe answer. Nor are we tied to any particular view of the prehistoric\nstages of this development. We only postulate that whenever and\nhowever man became truly man, he was from that moment religious, or\ncapable of religion; and this postulate deals with the region that\nlies beyond the reach of science, though all scientific observation\nis, as we have seen, directly in its favour.\n\nIn short, the history of the pre-Christian religion is like that of\npre-Christian philosophy, a long preparation for the Gospel. We are\nfamiliar enough with this thought in its Jewish application from the\nteaching of the Epistle to the Hebrews. But it seems to be often\nforgotten that the principles laid down in that Epistle admit of no\nlimitation to any single race of men. They are naturally illustrated\nfrom Hebrew history in a writing addressed to Hebrews. But their scope\nis universal. They compel their own application to every religious\nhistory, which the growth of our knowledge brings to light. And from\nthis point of view the many pagan adumbrations of Christian doctrine,\nsimilarities of practice, coincidences of ritual, analogies of phrase\nand symbol, fall naturally into place. The fathers and early\nmissionaries were often perplexed by these phenomena, and did not\nscruple to attribute them to diabolic imitation. And even in the\npresent day they are capable of disturbing timid minds, when\nunexpectedly presented before them. But all this is unphilosophical,\nfor in the light of evolution the occurrence of such analogies is a\nthing to be expected; while to the eye of faith they do but emphasize\nthe claim of Christianity to be universal, by shewing that it contains\nin spiritual summary the religious thoughts and practices and ways of\nprayer and worship, not of one people only, but of all the races of\nmen.\n\n'In the whole of our Christian faith,' says Thomassin, 'there is\nnothing which does not in the highest degree harmonize with that\nnatural philosophy which Wisdom, who made all things, infused into\nevery created mind, and wrote upon the very marrow of the reason; so\nthat, however obscured by the foul pleasures of the senses, it never\ncan be wholly done away. It was this hidden and intimate love of the\nhuman mind, however marred, for the incorruptible truth, which won the\nwhole world over to the gospel of Christ, when once that Gospel was\nproclaimed[213].'\n\nBut when all this has been said, there is a lingering suspicion in\nmany minds, that even if the details of the doctrine of development\nare not inconsistent with Christianity, its whole drift is\nincompatible with any system of opinion which claims to possess\nfinality. And if Christianity were only a system of opinion, the\nobjection might be plausible enough. But its claim to possess finality\nrests upon its further claim to be much more than a system of opinion.\nThe doctrine of development or evolution, we must remember, is not a\ndoctrine of limitless change, like the old Greek notion of perpetual\nflux. Species once developed are seen to be persistent, in proportion\nto their versatility, their power, i.e. of adapting themselves to the\nchanges of the world around them. And because man, through his mental\ncapacity, possesses this power to an almost unlimited extent, the\nhuman species is virtually permanent. Now in scientific language, the\nIncarnation may be said to have introduced a new species into the\nworld--a Divine man transcending past humanity, as humanity\ntranscended the rest of the animal creation, and communicating His\nvital energy by a spiritual process to subsequent generations of men.\nAnd thus viewed, there is nothing unreasonable in the claim of\nChristianity to be at least as permanent as the race which it has\nraised to a higher power, and endued with a novel strength.\n\n\nIII. But in saying this we touch new ground. As long as we confine\nourselves to speaking of the Eternal Word as operating in the\nmysterious region which lies behind phenomena, we are safe it may be\nsaid from refutation, because we are dealing with the unknown. But\nwhen we go on to assert that He has flashed through our atmosphere,\nand been seen of men, scintillating signs and wonders in His path, we\nare at once open to critical attack. And this brings us to the real\npoint at issue between Christianity and its modern opponents. It is\nnot the substantive body of our knowledge, but the critical faculty\nwhich has been sharpened in its acquisition that really comes in\nconflict with our creed. Assuming Christianity to be true, there is,\nas we have seen, nothing in it inconsistent with any ascertained\nscientific fact. But what is called the negative criticism assumes\nthat it cannot be true, because the miraculous element in it\ncontradicts experience. Still criticism is a very different thing from\nscience, a subjective thing into which imagination and personal\nidiosyncrasy enter largely, and which needs therefore in its turn to\nbe rigorously criticised. And the statement that Christianity\ncontradicts experience suggests two reflections, _in limine_.\n\nIn the first place the origin of all things is mysterious, the origin\nof matter, the origin of energy, the origin of life, the origin of\nthought. And present experience is no criterion of any of these\nthings. What were their birth throes, what were their accompanying\nsigns and wonders, when the morning stars sang together in the dawn of\ntheir appearing, we do not and cannot know. If therefore the\nIncarnation was, as Christians believe, another instance of a new\nbeginning, present experience will neither enable us to assert or\ndeny, what its attendant circumstances may or may not have been. The\nlogical impossibility of proving a negative is proverbial. And on a\nsubject, whose conditions are unknown to us, the very attempt becomes\nridiculous. And secondly, it is a mistake to suppose that as a matter\nof strict evidence, the Christian Church has ever rested its claims\nupon its miracles. A confirmatory factor indeed, in a complication of\nconverging arguments, they have been, and still are to many minds. But\nto others, who in the present day are probably the larger class, it is\nnot so easy to believe Christianity on account of miracles, as\nmiracles on account of Christianity. For now, as ever, the real burden\nof the proof of Christianity is to be sought in our present\nexperience.\n\nThere is a fact of experience as old as history, as widely spread as\nis the human race, and more intensely, irresistibly, importunately\nreal than all the gathered experience of art and policy and\nscience,--the fact which philosophers call moral evil, and Christians\nsin. It rests upon no questionable interpretation of an Eastern\nallegory. We breathe it, we feel it, we commit it, we see its havoc\nall around us. It is no dogma, but a sad, solemn, inevitable fact. The\nanimal creation has a law of its being, a condition of its perfection,\nwhich it instinctively and invariably pursues. Man has a law of his\nbeing, a condition of his perfection, which he instinctively tends to\ndisobey. And what he does to-day, he has been doing from the first\nrecord of his existence.\n\n  Video meliora proboque,\n  Deteriora sequor.\n\nPhilosophers have from time to time attempted to explain this dark\nexperience away, and here and there men of happy temperament, living\namong calm surroundings, have been comparatively unconscious of the\nevil in the world. But the common conscience is alike unaffected by\nthe ingenuity of the one class, or the apathy of the other; while it\nthrills to the voices of men like S.\u00a0Paul or S.\u00a0Augustine, Dante or\nJohn Bunyan, Loyola or Luther; recognising in their sighs and tears\nand lamentations, the echo of its own unutterable sorrow made\narticulate. Nor is sin confined to one department of our being. It\npoisons the very springs of life, and taints its every action. It\ncorrupts art; it hampers science; it paralyses the efforts of the\npolitician and the patriot; and diseased bodies, and broken hearts,\nand mental and spiritual agony, are amongst its daily, its hourly\nresults. It would seem indeed superfluous to insist upon these things,\nif their importance were not so often ignored in the course of\nanti-Christian argument. But when we are met by an appeal to\nexperience, it is necessary to insist that no element of experience be\nleft out.\n\nAnd moral evil, independently of any theory of its nature or its\norigin, is a plain palpable fact, and a fact of such stupendous\nmagnitude as to constitute by far the most serious problem of our\nlife.\n\nNow it is also a fact of present experience that there are scattered\nthroughout Christendom, men of every age, temperament, character, and\nantecedents, for whom this problem is practically solved: men who have\na personal conviction that their own past sins are done away with, and\nthe whole grasp of evil upon them loosened, and who in consequence\nrise to heights of character and conduct, which they know that they\nwould never have otherwise attained. And all this they agree to\nattribute, in however varying phrases, to the personal influence upon\nthem of Jesus Christ. Further, these men had a spiritual ancestry.\nOthers in the last generation believed and felt, and acted as they now\nact and feel and believe. And so their lineage can be traced backward,\nage by age, swelling into a great multitude whom no man can number,\ntill we come to the historic records of Him whom they all look back\nto, and find that He claimed the power on earth to forgive sins. And\nthere the phenomenon ceases. Pre-Christian antiquity contains nothing\nanalogous to it. Consciousness of sin, and prayers for pardon, and\npurgatorial penances, and sacrifices, and incantations, and magic\nformulae are there in abundance; and hopes, among certain races, of\nthe coming of a great deliverer. But never the same sense of sin\nforgiven, nor the consequent rebound of the enfranchised soul. Yet\nneither a code of morality which was not essentially new, nor the\nexample of a life receding with every age into a dimmer past, would\nhave been adequate to produce this result. It has all the appearance\nof being, what it historically has claimed to be, the entrance of an\nessentially new life into the world, quickening its palsied energies,\nas with an electric touch. And the more we realize in the bitterness\nof our own experience, or that of others, the essential malignity of\nmoral evil, the more strictly supernatural does this energy appear.\nWhen, therefore, we are told that miracles contradict experience, we\npoint to the daily occurrence of this spiritual miracle and ask\n'whether is it easier to say thy sins be forgiven thee, or to say\narise and walk?' We meet experience with experience, the negative\nexperience that miracles have not happened with the positive\nexperience that they are happening now: an old argument, which so far\nfrom weakening, modern science has immensely strengthened, by its\ninsistence on the intimate union between material and spiritual\nthings. For spirit and matter, as we call them, are now known to\nintermingle, and blend, and fringe off, and fade into each other, in a\nway that daily justifies us more in our belief that the possessor of\nthe key to one must be the possessor of the key to both, and that He\nwho can save the soul can raise the dead.\n\nHere then is our answer to the negative criticism, or rather to the\nnegative hypothesis, by which many critics are misled. Of course we do\nnot expect for it unanimous assent. It is founded on a specific\nexperience; and strangers to that experience are naturally unable to\nappreciate its force. But neither should they claim to judge it. For\nthe critic of an experience must be its expert. And the accumulated\nverdict of the spiritual experts of all ages, should at least meet\nwith grave respect from the very men who are most familiar with the\nimportance of the maxim, 'Cuique in sua arte credendum.' Christianity\ndistinctly declines to be proved first, and practised afterwards. Its\npractice and its proof go hand in hand. And its real evidence is its\npower.\n\nWe now see why the Atonement has often assumed such exclusive\nprominence in the minds of Christian men. They have felt that it was\nthe secret of their own regenerate life, their best intellectual\napology, their most attractive missionary appeal; and so have come to\nthink that the other aspects of the Incarnation might be banished from\nthe pulpit and the market-place, to the seclusion of the schools. But\nthis has proved to be a fatal mistake. Truth cannot be mutilated with\nimpunity. And this gradual substitution of a detached doctrine for a\ncatholic creed, has led directly to the charge which is now so common,\nthat Christianity is inadequate to life; with no message to ordinary\nmen, in their ordinary moments, no bearing upon the aims, occupations,\ninterests, enthusiasms, amusements, which are human nature's daily\nfood.\n\nBut we have already seen what a misconception this implies of the\nIncarnation. The Incarnation opened heaven, for it was the revelation\nof the Word; but it also reconsecrated earth, for the Word was made\nFlesh and dwelt among us. And it is impossible to read history without\nfeeling how profoundly the religion of the Incarnation has been a\nreligion of humanity. The human body itself, which heathendom had so\ndegraded, that noble minds could only view it as the enemy and prison\nof the soul, acquired a new meaning, exhibited new graces, shone with\na new lustre in the light of the Word made Flesh; and thence, in\nwidening circles, the family, society, the state, felt in their turn\nthe impulse of the Christian spirit, with its\n\n          touches of things common,\n  Till they rose to touch the spheres.\n\nLiterature revived; art flamed into fuller life; even science in its\nearly days owed more than men often think, to the Christian temper and\nthe Christian reverence for things once called common or unclean.\nWhile the optimism, the belief in the future, the atmosphere of\nhopefulness, which has made our progress and achievements possible,\nand which, when all counter currents have been allowed for, so deeply\ndifferentiates the modern from the ancient world, dates, as a fact of\nhistory, from those buoyant days of the early church, when the creed\nof suicide was vanquished before the creed of martyrdom, Seneca before\nS.\u00a0Paul. It is true that secular civilization has co-operated with\nChristianity to produce the modern world. But secular civilization is,\nas we have seen, in the Christian view, nothing less than the\nprovidential correlative and counterpart of the Incarnation. For the\nWord did not desert the rest of His creation to become Incarnate.\nNatural religion, and natural morality, and the natural play of\nintellect have their function in the Christian as they had in the\npre-Christian ages; and are still kindled by the light that lighteth\nevery man coming into the world. And hence it is that secular thought\nhas so often corrected and counteracted the evil of a Christianity\ngrown professional, and false, and foul.\n\nStill, when all allowance for other influence has been made; and all\nthe ill done in its name admitted to the full; Christianity remains,\nthe only power which has regenerated personal life, and that beyond\nthe circle even of its professed adherents, the light of it far\noutshining the lamp which has held its flame. And personal life is\nafter all the battle-ground, on which the progress of the race must be\ndecided. Nor ever indeed should this be more apparent than in the\npresent day. For materialism, that old enemy alike of the Christian\nand the human cause, has passed from the study to the street. No one\nindeed may regret this more than the high-souled scientific thinker,\nwhose life belies the inevitable consequences of his creed. But the\nruthless logic of human passion is drawing those consequences\nfiercely; and the luxury of the rich, and the communistic cry of the\npoor, and the desecration of marriage, and the disintegration of\nsociety, and selfishness in policy, and earthliness in art, are\nplausibly pleading science in their favour. And with all this\nChristianity claims, as of old, to cope, because it is the religion of\nthe Incarnation. For the real strength of materialism lies in the\njustice which it does to the material side of nature--the loveliness\nof earth and sea and sky and sun and star; the wonder of the mechanism\nwhich controls alike the rushing comet and the falling leaf; the human\nbody crowning both, at once earth's fairest flower and most marvellous\nmachine. And Christianity is the only religion which does equal\njustice to this truth, while precluding its illegitimate perversion.\nIt includes the truth, by the essential importance which it assigns to\nthe human body, and therefore to the whole material order, with which\nthat body is so intimately one; while it excludes its perversion, by\nshewing the cause of that importance to lie in its connection,\ncommunion, union with the spirit, and consequent capacity for endless\ndegrees of glory.\n\nAnd though its own first vocation is to seek and save souls one by\none, it consecrates in passing every field of thought and action,\nwherein the quickened energies of souls may find their scope. It\nwelcomes the discoveries of science, as ultimately due to Divine\nrevelation, and part of the providential education of the world. It\nrecalls to art the days when, in catacomb and cloister, she learned\nher noblest mission to be the service of the Word made Flesh. It\nappeals to democracy as the religion of the fishermen who gathered\nround the carpenter's Son. It points the social reformer to the\npattern of a perfect man, laying down His life alike for enemy and\nfriend. While it crowns all earthly aims with a hope full of\nimmortality, as prophetic of eternal occupations otherwhere. And\nhowever many a new meaning may yet be found in the Incarnation,\nhowever many a misconception of it fade before fuller light; we can\nconceive no phase of progress which has not the Incarnation for its\nguiding star; no age which cannot make the prayer of the fifth century\nits own--\n\n'O God of unchangeable power and eternal light, look favourably on Thy\nwhole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; and by the tranquil\noperation of Thy perpetual Providence, carry out the work of man's\nsalvation; and let the whole world feel and see that things which were\ncast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are\nbeing made new, and all things are returning to perfection through\nHim, from whom they took their origin, even through our Lord Jesus\nChrist[214].'\n\n[195] Irenaeus.\n\n[196] S.\u00a0Thom. Aq. _c. Gent._ iv.\u00a013.\n\n[197] H. de Boseham (Migne) v.\u00a0190. p. 1353.\n\n[198] Scot. Er. (Migne) v.\u00a0122. p. 302.\n\n[199] S.\u00a0Bonav. _In Eccles._ ci. t. ix.\n\n[200] H. de S.\u00a0Victor. (Migne) v.\u00a0177. p. 580.\n\n[201] S.\u00a0Thom. Aquinas.\n\n[202] S.\u00a0Bonav. _de Reduct._ sub fin.\n\n[203] S.\u00a0Thom. Aq. _de Verit._ 22. 2. 1.\n\n[204] S.\u00a0Bonav. _Lum. Eccles._ S. 12.\n\n[205] Id. _Lum. Eccles._ S. 5.\n\n[206] Mark Pattison.\n\n[207] _Mag. Mor._ ii.\u00a012.\n\n[208] S.\u00a0Thom. Aq. ii. _Sent._ i.\u00a01.\n\n[209] _In Act. Apost._ c.\u00a017. v.\u00a028.\n\n[210] Cp. p. 64.\n\n[211] S.\u00a0Aug. _de Magist._ 38. t. i. p. 916.\n\n[212] S.\u00a0Thom. Aq. _cont. Gent._ iv.\u00a013.\n\n[213] Thomassin, _Incarn._ i.\u00a015.\n\n[214] Gelasian, quoted by Bright, _Ancient Collects_, p. 98.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\n_THE INCARNATION AS THE BASIS OF DOGMA._\n\nR. C. MOBERLY.\n\n\nI. Many years ago, in undergraduate days, I was speaking once to a\nfriend of my hope of beginning some little acquaintance with Theology.\nI well remember the air of nicely mingled civility and contemptuousness,\nwith which my friend, wishing to sympathize, at once drew a\ndistinction for me between speculative and dogmatic Theology, and\nassumed that I could not mean that the mere study of dogmatic Theology\ncould have any sort of attractiveness. I do not think that I accepted\nhis kindly overture; but it certainly made me consider more than once\nafterwards, whether the 'mere study of dogmatic Theology' could after\nall be so slavish and profitless an employment as had been implied. On\nthe whole, however, I settled with myself that his condemnation,\nhowever obviously candid and even impressive, must nevertheless\nremain, so far as I was concerned, a surprise and an enigma. For what,\nafter all, did the study of dogmatic Theology mean, but the study of\nthose truths which the mind of Christ's Church upon earth has believed\nto be at once the most certain and the most important truths of man's\nhistory, nature and destiny, in this world and for ever?\n\nIt is impossible, however, not to feel that my friend, in his\nobjection, represented what was, and is, a very widespread instinct\nagainst the study of dogma. Some think, for instance, that to\npractical men exactnesses of doctrinal statement, even if true, are\nimmaterial. Others think that any exactness of doctrinal statement is\nconvicted, by its mere exactness, of untruth; for that knowledge about\nthings unseen can only be indefinite in character. If, indeed,\nreligious knowledge is a process of evolution simply, if it means only\na gradual development towards ever-increasing definiteness of\nreligious supposition, then no doubt its exactness may be the\ncondemnation of dogma. But then, no doubt, to make room for such a\nview, the whole fact of historical Christianity must be first\ndisplaced.\n\nIs it put as an impossibility, that there _cannot_ be any definite or\ncertain Theology? Can there, then, be a Revelation? Can there be an\nIncarnation? Those only are consistent, who assert that all three are\nimpossible, and who understand that in so doing they are limiting the\npossibilities, and therefore _pro tanto_ questioning the reality of a\nPersonal God. But if there be a Personal God, what are the adequate\ngrounds on which it is nevertheless laid down that He _cannot_\ndirectly reveal Himself? Or, if He can reveal Himself, on what ground\ncan the _\u00e0 priori_ assertion rest, that theological truth must be\nuncertain or indefinite? The Christian Church claims to have both\ndefinite and certain knowledge. These claims can never be met by any\n_\u00e0 priori_ judgment that such knowledge is impossible. Such a judgment\nis too slenderly based to bear the weight of argument. To argue from\nit would be to commit the very fault so often imputed to the\ndogmatist. It would be a flagrant instance of dogmatic assertion (and\nthat for the most important of argumentative purposes) of what we\ncould not possibly know.\n\nThe claim of the Church to knowledge through the Incarnation can only\nbe rationally met, and only really answered, when the claim itself,\nand its evidence, are seriously examined. Herein lies, and will always\nlie, the heart of the struggle for or against the dogmatic character\nof the Church. Anything else is only the fringe of the matter. Any\nrebutting of _\u00e0 priori_ presumptions against dogma is a mere clearing\nof the way for battle. Thus it is said, perhaps, that the objection is\nto the degree of definiteness, or to the tone of authority. It is\nfancied that dogma in its very nature, quite apart from its contents,\nis a curtailment of the rights, and a limitation of the powers, of\nmind. Is dogma, the most definite and authoritative, fettering to the\nfreedom of intellect? We can see in a moment the entire unreality of\nthe objection, by simply substituting for it another question. Is\ntruth fettering to intellect? Does the utmost certitude of truth limit\nfreedom of mind? Because, if not, dogma, so far as it coincides with\ntruth, cannot fetter either. If perfect knowledge of truth could\nparalyse the intellect, what (it is worth while to ask) do we mean by\nintellect? Do we mean something which must for ever be struggling with\ndifficulties which it cannot overcome? Is it necessary for the idea of\nmind that it should be baffled? Is it a creature only of the tangle\nand the fog? And if ever the day should come, when after struggling,\nmore or less ineffectually, with the tangle and the fog, man should\nemerge at last in clear sunshine upon the mountain top, will mind\ncease to have any faculty or place, because the knowledge of truth has\ncome? At least, if we understand this to be the conception of mind, it\nneed not frighten us quite so much as it did, to be told that dogma\ninterferes with mind. But if, however different from our experience\nthe employment of mind would be in the presence of perfect knowledge,\nwe cannot so conceive of mind as to admit that truth could possibly be\nits enemy or its destruction, then we may certainly insist that no\namount of dogma, so far as it is true, can limit or fetter the freedom\nof intellect. But then we are at once thrown back upon the question;\nis the dogmatic teaching of the Church true? No statement which\nabsolutely coincides with truth can hurt the freedom of mind. But\nmistaken presumption of truth can, and does, limit it; and so does\nauthority, if it prevents the examination of truth. Dogma, then, is,\nas dogma, a wrong to mind, just so far as it can be convicted of\neither of these things; so far as it forbids examination, or so far as\nit asserts what is not strictly true.\n\nAs to the first of these two suggestions against dogma, it is quite\nenough simply to deny it. The Church, as a teacher of dogmatic truth,\ndoes not forbid the freest and completest inquiry into the truths\nwhich she enunciates. The question is not whether dogmatic theologians\nhave ever dreaded inquiry into truth; but whether the dogmatic Church,\nas such, precludes or forbids it. True, she enunciates some truths as\ntrue; and holds those, in different measures, unwise and wrong, who\ncontradict her truths. But she does not, therefore, forbid the fullest\nexercise of intellect upon them; nor tremble lest intellect, rightly\nwielded, should contradict them. Indeed for eighteen centuries she has\nbeen engaged, and will be engaged to the end, in examining with a\npower and discipline of intellect, which she alone ever has, or could\nhave, evoked, into the meaning and exactness of her own knowledge. But\nshe does warn inquirers that successful inquiry into her truths is no\nwork of merely ingenious disputation, but needs the exactest\ndiscipline and balance of all the faculties of our human nature.\n\nWe return, then, to the second suggestion; and I repeat that the\nquestion has for us become, not whether dogma in the abstract is\ndesirable or undesirable, but whether the dogmas of the Christian\nChurch are true or not true. Dogma that is true can only be\nundesirable in so far as truth is undesirable.\n\nWhether the dogmas of the Church are true or not true, is itself a\nquestion of evidence.\n\nBefore, however, making any remark upon the nature of this evidence in\nthe case of religion, we may remember that the possession of dogma is\nin no way peculiar to religion. There is no region of research or\nknowledge which does not present to the student its own 'dogmata,' or\ntruths ascertained and agreed upon; nor does any one, in the name of\nfreedom of intellect, persist in treating these always as open\nquestions.\n\nBut perhaps if we venture thus to claim the ascertained truths of any\nscience as dogmas, the scientific answer will be ready. They differ,\nit will be felt, from the nature of religious dogmas, in two important\nrespects. The first difference is, that they are offered for\nacceptance with their full proofs, from the first moment that they are\noffered at all. The student could not, it may be, have discovered for\nhimself the law of gravitation, or the circulation of the blood; but\nhe can, when these discoveries are once set before him by another, see\nforthwith not only the coherency of the principles, but the cogency of\ntheir proof. The second difference is, that when they have been\naccepted by the student, proof and all, they still claim no allegiance\nbeyond what his intelligence cannot but freely give; he is still free\nto supersede or upset them, if he can. He accepts them indeed\nprovisionally, as identical with the truth so far as the truth on the\nsubject is yet known; yet not necessarily as final truth. He accepts\nthem as truths which all his further study will comment upon;\npresumably indeed in the way of continual illustration and\ncorroboration,--so that what he accepts for study will be more and\nmore certainly proved by the study--but also, if you please, in the\nway of correction; for if his study can supersede, or even in any\nmeasure correct or alter them,--why, so much the better both for\nscience and for him! Why should not this be equally true of Theology?\nWhy should religious dogmas be received without these conditions, as\ncertainly and finally true?\n\nTo begin with, then, some exception may be taken to the statement that\nthe student who accepts a scientific doctrine, has the full evidence\nbefore him from the beginning. That it is not altogether so is evident\nfrom the simple consideration, just mentioned, that his work is a\nprogressive one; and that the whole course of his experience tends,\nand will tend, to deepen the certainty of his first principles. But in\nso far as the proof of any leading principle is being deepened and\nstrengthened by the student's daily work, so far it is clear that the\namount of certainty about his principles with which at first he began,\nmust be less than that with which he ends at last; and therefore that\nthe proof presented to him at the beginning, however much it may have\nbeen adequate to the purpose, (even though it may have been the\ncompletest proof capable of being presented in the way of exposition\nfrom the lip to the ear) was nevertheless most incomplete in\ncomparison with the fulness of attainable proof. And further, it may\ncertainly be said also, that in the convincingness of this evidence as\nat first presented, authority, whether more or less, had an undoubted\npart. At the very least it had a negative place, as a guarantee to the\nyoung mind rejoicing in the ingenuity of the apparent demonstration,\nthat the apparent demonstration was not vitiated by some unseen\nfallacy, or that there was not a series of other considerations\nbehind, which would rob the lesson just learnt of its practical\nusefulness. Often, indeed, the degree of authority in the first\nscientific convictions would be very much higher. Often, however\nhelpful the arguments or illustrations of a principle may seem, the\nreally overruling consideration will at first be this, that the whole\nscientific world has absolutely accepted the principle as truth. So\nmuch is this the case, that if an average student should find himself\nunable in any point to receive the ascertained truths of his science\nwith intelligent agreement, he would not hesitate to assume that the\nwhole fault lay with himself; he would really be convinced in his soul\nthat the dicta of his scientific teachers were right, and that he\nhimself would see the certainty of them by and by.\n\nNow in both these two respects the acceptance of religious dogma is\nnot essentially in contrast, but rather is parallel, with that of\nscientific principles. For religious truth is neither in its first\nacceptance a mere matter of blind submission to authority, nor is it\nstagnant and unprogressive after it is accepted. However different in\nother ways the leading truths of the Creed may be from scientific\nprinciples; in this respect at least they are not different,--that not\none of them is ever brought for the acceptance of men without some\nreally intelligent evidence and ground for acceptance. If any man is\nasked to accept them, without any intelligent ground for the\nacceptance, we may be bold perhaps to assert that it would be his duty\nto refuse. Of course, however, authority will itself be a large part\nof his intelligent ground; a larger part or a smaller according to\ncircumstances. But then there is no proper antithesis between\nbelieving in deference to authority, and believing in deference to\nreason, unless it is understood that the authority believed in was\naccepted at first as authority _without reason_, or maintained in\nspite of the subsequent refusal of reason to give confirmatory witness\nto its assertions. Even in the cases in which there seems to be least\nuse of reason, the case of a young child learning at his mother's\nknee, or of a man whose spirit has suffered and been broken, and who\ngives himself up at last to the mere guidance of a friend or a\nteacher, the authority, when accepted at all, is accepted on grounds\nessentially reasonable. The child's reasoning may differ in quality\nfrom the prodigal's; but the child trusts father or mother on grounds\nwhich are wholly, if unconsciously, a product of the strictest reason;\nand the prodigal has felt in his inmost soul alike the deadness of his\nown spiritual being, and the power and the beauty which are in the\nlife of the teacher upon whom he throws himself. And this is not the\nonly point; for the reasonable mind in one is not a thing different in\nnature from the reasonable mind in another, or from the eternal reason\nwhich is in God. The truths, therefore, which we are taught about God,\nand man, and Christ, about sin, and redemption from sin, and the\nheaven of holiness, and which seem to be accepted as a mere act of not\nunreasonable dutifulness, do reasonably withal commend themselves, in\nsome shape or measure, even to the callow mind from its earliest\nimmaturity. There is that in the very consciousness of child, or of\ncriminal, with which they are in essential harmony. That in him with\nwhich they are in essential correspondence bears witness of them. Nor\nis anyone, in his acceptance of them, wholly insensible of this\nwitness to their truth, which is, in fact, engraven upon his own\nconscious being.\n\nTo 'take religion on trust,' then, as it is sometimes derisively\ncalled, is not really to act in defiance of, or apart from, reason. It\nis an exercise of reason up to a certain point,--just so, and so far\nas, the experience of the person warrants. He sees what to trust, and\nwhy. He sees where understanding and experience which transcend his\nown would point. And he seeks for the rational test of further\nexperience in the only way in which it can be had. He defers to the\nvoice of experience, in faith that his own experience will by and by\nprove its truthfulness. On a medical question, men would not dispute,\nthey would loudly proclaim, the reasonableness and wisdom of such a\ncourse. Yet there are those who suppose that the truths of religion\nare to admit of a complete preliminary intellectual verification, a\nverification apart from special training and experience, such as they\nmight more reasonably expect in any other subject-matter than\nreligion, but such as, in fact, they hardly expect elsewhere.\n\nThe doctrines of the Church, then, accepted at first on reasonable\nevidence, which in a greater or less degree, but perhaps never wholly,\nconsists in authority reasonably accepted as authority, are then in\nall the experience of spiritual life receiving continual comment,\nexplanation, corroboration. The whole experience of Christian life\nmust be a growth in the apprehension and certainty of Christian truth.\nA Christian neophyte may believe every word of his Creed, and believe\nneither ignorantly nor unintelligently. But the veteran Christian of\nfour-score will transcend the child at least as much in the degree of\ncertainty, with which the doctrines of the Church are to his entire\nfaculties mental, moral, and spiritual, proved and known to be true,\nas he can possibly do in his merely intellectual apprehension of the\nhistory or meaning of the words. We may say, indeed, that the life of\na professing Christian which is not a life of growth in the\napprehension of doctrinal truth, must necessarily be a retrogression;\njust as the life of so-called scientific study, which is not\ncontinually illuminating afresh, and deepening the certainty of its\nown scientific principles, must gradually come to hold even its own\nscientific principles less and less certainly, and to mean by them\nless and less.\n\nBut even if it may be shewn that there is not quite so essential a\ncontrast as there seemed to be, between the character of theological\nand scientific dogmas, by reason of the proofs which are offered,\nalong with his principles, to the student of any science; yet still it\nwill be felt that they differ essentially in the tone and manner with\nwhich they respectively speak to intellect. The truths of the one\nclaim at once to possess an intellectual finality, and to command a\nmoral allegiance, which the truths of the other do not.\n\nIt may be worth while to say in reply, first of all, that there cannot\nbe a real contrast of finality between them, so far as they are both\nreally true. What is really true is really true. Neither 'absolutely,'\n'finally,' nor any other adverb in the language will make the\nstatement a stronger one. What we call scientific truths are not in\nfact liable to correction, except in so far as they may perhaps, after\nall, not be quite scientific truths, except (that is) in respect of\nsuch admixture of erroneous supposition, as still has clung to them\nafter general acceptance. And on the other hand, so far as any\nmistaken assumptions are mixed up with our apprehension of religious\ntruths, so far these too _are_ liable to receive, and in the history\nof Church doctrine are continually receiving, correction. It is, after\nall, a truism. In either sphere the truths, so far as they really are\ntruths, are true absolutely: but are corrigible in so far as our\nstatement of them still contains anything that is other than truth. We\nmay put it, perhaps, in another way still. If, to assume an impossible\nhypothesis, any one could really prove, not merely that there were\nsome exaggerations or misconceptions in the traditional mode of\nstatement of some doctrinal truths, but that our really essential\nFaith was wrong, we may grant hypothetically (seeing that truth is\nsupreme) that he would do us all a mighty service, at however\ntremendous a cost. Similarly of course it must be owned, that if any\none could prove the earth to be flat and stationary, and the law of\ngravitation to be the precise contradictory of truth, he would do\nimmense service to science. But none the less, the scientific\ncertainty on these points is so complete, that if anyone seriously\nassailed them, it would be felt that he could only be dealing with the\nevidence in a way which tended to compromise the credit of his own\nreason; and he would therefore be reasonably held to be, as it is\nroughly phrased, a fool or a madman. And we must claim that for us the\ncertainty of some theological propositions is so complete, that when\nanyone assails them, we are no less reasonable in regarding him with\nconcern, rather for his own truth's sake than for the truth of our\nreligion; and that, if miracles or 'an angel from heaven' should seem\nto bear witness for him, it would still be no bigotry, but in the\nstrictest sense our reasonable course, to refuse the witness, and to\ntreat it as merely an attempt to ensnare us into falsehood to the real\nrequirements of our reason and conscience.\n\nIs the conclusion, then, that there is after all no difference at all\nbetween the truths of Theology and of Science, in respect of their\nclaim to authority? On the contrary, there remains a perfectly real\ncontrast of authority between them; only it is to be looked for\nelsewhere than among the conditions upon which our belief in them\nrespectively is based.\n\nThere are two distinct senses in which the doctrines of the Creed may\nbe said to be authoritative. It may be meant that the authoritativeness\nis in the manner in which they are presented to us; that is to say,\nthat (whatever their content may be) they are statements which we\nbelieve, and are to believe, on the sole ground that we are told to do\nso, without any appeal to reason of our own; or it may be meant that\nthey are statements whose content is of such nature and inherent\nimportance, that we cannot, in fact, believe them, without thereby\nnecessarily being involved in a train of consequential obligations of\nthought and life. In this latter case the authoritativeness lies not\nin the manner of their presentation to us or our acceptance of them,\nbut in that which is involved in the nature of the truths themselves,\n_if and when_ they are believed.\n\nIs it true to say of the Creeds that they are 'authoritative' in the\nformer sense? that is to say that they challenge our allegiance, and\nwe are bound to believe them, because we are told that they are true,\nwithout examination on our part, and without reason? It has indeed\nbeen stated already that, as between pupils and teachers, there is in\nreligious learning, as there is in all human learning whatever,\nscientific or otherwise, a certain legitimate and important field for\nauthority reasonably accepted as authority, that is, the authority of\nmen more learned and experienced than ourselves. Even this, of course,\nmeans that the pupil believes the things taught to be strictly\nrational to the teacher, though they be not so, as yet, to himself.\nBut is it true, in speaking of religion, to carry this one step\nfurther; and to say that in this sphere our _whole_ belief, and duty\nof belief, rests upon authority as its ultimate foundation, the\nauthority not of man's experience, but of God's command? It must, no\ndoubt, be freely owned on all sides, that if there be a creed\ncommanded of God, we certainly are bound to believe it. But is there?\nor when, or how, was it commanded? Does anyone answer, through our\nLord Jesus Christ? or through His Church? or through the Bible? But\nwho is He? or what is the Bible? or how do we know? To accept\ndoctrines, which we otherwise should not accept, because we are told\nto do so, without knowing first who told us, or why we should believe\nhim, is simply not a reasonable possibility. But to ask these\nquestions and to have answers to them, and believe because we are\nsatisfied in some way as to the answers to them, is certainly not to\nrest the act of believing on a foundation of mere authority:\nessentially rather it is, to go over part of the ground of the Creed\nfirst, and be satisfied as to the correctness of its main substance,\nand _therefore_ to believe it. A Christian will not deny that the\ndoctrines of the Creed are entitled in fact to be held as\nauthoritative, in both of the senses distinguished above. But we\ncannot believe them on God's authority till we have first believed in\nthe authority of God. And, therefore, their authoritativeness in what\nwe have called the first sense is not really the ultimate ground of\nour accepting them: for it is not itself accepted and apprehended by\nus, except as a consequence of our first believing that which is the\nmain substance of the Creed. It may be the warrant to us of this or\nthat detail considered apart: but it is not, and cannot ever be, the\noriginal and sufficient cause of our believing the whole. _Credo ut\nintelligam_ may be the most true and most reasonable motto of the\nlarge part of Christian faith and life: but it is not inconsistent\nwith--it is founded upon--an ultimate underlying _intellexi ut\ncrederem_. There is, then, a real and abiding difference between\ntheological and scientific dogmas, in respect of the authority with\nwhich they speak to us. But the difference is one which does not\naffect at all the method or grounds of our original belief in them\nrespectively: it is to be found exclusively in the different\nsubject-matter of the two when believed.\n\nAnd herein, also, it is that we find the real answer to the other form\nof question, viz., why should Theology claim to be so much more final\nthan science? Much as science has conquered of the realm of truth, it\ndoes not profess to have conquered more than a little. Of the vast\nresiduum it says nothing. It has no idea how small a proportion its\npresent knowledge may bear to that which will one day be known. Nay,\nthe further it advances in knowledge of truth, so much the smaller a\nproportion does its realized truth seem to it to bear to that which\nremains unexplored. Why should the theologian be less patient of\nadditions to theological knowledge, such as may some day throw all his\npresent creeds into comparative obscurity? Why should the Christian\nCreed be fixed and inexpansive? The question is formidable only in an\nabstract form. The reasonable answer to it confronts us the moment we\nconsider what is the subject-matter of the Creed. Scientific\nprinciples are in their very nature fragments of a truth which is\npractically infinite. But the Christian Creed, if true at all, cannot\npossibly be a fragment of truth. For the Christian Creed does not\nsimply enunciate so many abstract principles of natural or\nsupernatural life or governance. It introduces us straight to a\nsupreme Person, Himself the beginning and end, the author and upholder\nof all. Such a doctrine may be false; but it cannot be a fragment. The\nchild who believes in God, believes in everything, though he knows\nhardly anything. He has infinitely more yet to learn, as to what his\nown belief means. But he has nothing to add to it. The perfect\nknowledge of the universe would not add to it, but would only explain\nit. It is, then, by virtue of his personal relation to a Personality\nwhich is Itself supreme and all inclusive, that he is guilty of no\npresumption, even though in the face of the modest disavowals of\nscientific men, he must maintain that his own creed is, in its proper\nnature, even when all admissions have been made, rather a complete and\nconclusive, than a partial or a tentative, statement of truth. But\nthis difference between him and them is the result neither of any\narrogance in his temper, nor any lack in his logic, but it follows\nnecessarily from the nature of the subject-matter of his creed, if and\nwhen it is believed.\n\nBut still this fact that, if true, they are truths which by the\nobvious necessity of their subject-matter speak to our intellects and\nconsciences with a tone of such Divinely commanding authority, ought\nnot to make me or anyone accept them as true, unless the evidence for\nthem is adequate. The question is not how authoritative they would be,\nif true; nor how important or inclusive they would be, if true; nor is\nany amount of contingent importance or authority adequate evidence for\ntheir truth, but only a motive for inquiring into its evidence. The\nquestion is, are they true? or are they not true? and the question is\na question of evidence.\n\n\nII. And now, in recurring once more to the subject of the evidence by\nwhich the dogmas of religion are proved, from which we diverged just\nnow, we find, in respect of it, a second reality of contrast between\ntheological truths and the truths of material science. For whilst in\nboth cases equally we depend upon evidence, and evidence that is\nadequate; it does not follow that the evidence for both is in all\npoints similar in kind. In great part indeed it is so; but it is\ncertainly not so altogether. For when we speak of the evidence of\nreligious truths, it is to be remembered that the full evidence by\nwhich our consciences are wholly convinced of them, is not of one kind\nonly, but of all kinds. The facts of religion address themselves to\nthe whole nature of man; and it is only by the whole nature of man\nthat they can ever be fully apprehended. Man is not a being of\nintellectual conceptions or faculties only. And because he is not so,\ntherefore no set of principles which could be apprehended by the\nintellect alone (as the theorems of Euclid may appear to be), and\nwhich make for their acceptance no demand at all upon the qualities of\nhis moral or spiritual being, could really present, as religion\nprofesses to present, a system of truth and life which would be\nadequate to the scope of his whole nature. It is undoubtedly the case\nthat just as the truths of religion account for, and appeal to, his\nwhole being, so the evidence for them appeals to his whole being also.\nFor its complete appreciation there are requirements other than\nintellectual. There must be not only certain endowments of mind, but\nthe life of a moral being. There must be moral affections, moral\nperceptions, spiritual affinities and satisfactions. Even if the\nprimary conviction of his reason may be apart from these, yet of the\nfully developed evidence, which is the real possession of the\nChristian believer, these are a most important and necessary part.\nWithout these, his certainty, adequate though it might be, would be\nfar less profound than it is. These are to him essential ingredients\nin the richness and the fulness of the evidence which to him is\neverywhere. Now for this necessary width of the full confirmatory\nevidence of religion, it is impossible for the religious man, with the\nutmost desire to make every allowance and apology that is possible, to\noffer any apology at all. So far from being a mark of inconsistency or\nfeebleness, it is a necessary note of the completeness of religion.\nReligion professes to have for its subject-matter, and in a measure\nincomplete, but relatively adequate, to include, to account for, and\nto direct, the whole range of all man's history, all man's capacities,\nexplored or unexplored, all man's destiny now and for ever. If its\ntruths and their evidence were found to address themselves exclusively\nto the intellect, in isolation from the other qualities and\nexperiences of man's nature, it would be self-convicted of inadequacy.\nIf men full of worldliness of heart and self-indulgence could be\ncapable of understanding the revelation of religious truth as\naccurately, of embracing it as completely, of apprehending the depth\nand the width of the evidence for it (with which all human nature\nreally is saturated) as thoroughly as the prayerful and the penitent,\nthis would not mean that religion or religious evidence had been\nlifted up, on to a higher and more properly scientific level, but\nrather that it had shrunk down into correspondence merely with a part,\nand not the noblest part, of man's present nature.\n\nIt would be far beyond the scope of this paper to discuss kinds of\nevidence, or argue in defence of the position that there is real\nevidence for religious truth, which is none the less properly\nevidence, because it is different in kind from the evidence for the\npropositions of material science: but it may be permissible, at least,\nin passing to record the claim, and to insist that religious men, in\nconfining themselves to strictly historical or logical arguments, are\nnecessarily omitting much which is nevertheless, to them, real ground.\nThere are evidences which can speak to the heart, the imagination, the\nconscience, as well as the intelligence. Or, perhaps, we shall come\nnearer to an exact expression of the truth, by saying that the\nintelligence, which can apprehend and pronounce upon the evidence of\ntruths of spiritual consciousness, is an intelligence identical in\nname, but not identical in nature, with that which can well weigh and\njudge purely logical--or even that which can pronounce upon\nmoral--problems. The intelligence of a moral character, or of a\nspiritual personality, differs not in range only, but in quality, from\nthat of a merely 'rational animal.' If the moral and the spiritual\nintelligence did not contain quite other elements, drawn from quite\nother experiences and possibilities, they could not work upon their\nhigher subject-matter at all. To the religious man, therefore, it must\nseem strictly unreasonable, in the examination of truths which\nprofessedly correspond to man's whole nature, and need his whole\nnature and experience for the interpretation of them, to begin by\nshutting out, as irrelevant, what we will modestly call the half of\nman's nature; and to demand that the truths shall be so stated and so\nproved, as that the statements and proofs shall correspond exclusively\nwith the other half, and find in that other half their whole\ninterpretation, and their whole evidence.\n\nIt may, indeed, be desirable to guard against a misconception, by the\nexpress admission that there is some necessary ambiguity in the terms\nemployed. We may seem to have unduly extended both the verbal meaning,\nand the sphere of importance, of 'evidence' and 'proof.' Undoubtedly\nthere is a sense in which it would be, not merely true to admit, but\nimportant to insist, that in the acceptance of religious truth, Faith\nneither is, nor ever can be, displaced, in order that Demonstration\nmay be enthroned in her place. But then Demonstration is a word which\nbelongs to strictly logical nomenclature. And the very point here\ninsisted on is that the strictly logical presentment of religion is,\nin reference to the real presentment of religion, most inadequate.\nUndoubtedly, if everything else is shorn away, and religion remains\nsolely and only in the form of strict logic, without sentiment,\nwithout imagination, without experience of duty, or sin, or right, or\naspiration, or anything else which belongs to the spiritual\nconsciousness of human personalities, the logic of it is, and must be,\nimperfectly conclusive.\n\nNow words such as 'evidence,' 'proof,' 'intelligence,' are no doubt\noften used in connection with processes of the intellect taken\napart--the intellect of a being merely rational. In insisting,\ntherefore, that the word evidence, when used in reference to religious\nsubject-matter, must include data which, to the observer of physical\nphenomena, would seem vague and impalpable; and that intelligence, as\nadequately trained to apprehend and give judgment upon religious\nevidence, is in some respects other, and more, than that intelligence\nwhich can deal with evidence into which no element of spiritual\nconsciousness enters; we differ, perhaps, at the most, more in form\nthan reality, from those who simply deprecate the appeal to 'evidence'\nor 'proof' in matters of faith.\n\nTo the religious man, then, the fulness of Christian evidence is as\nmany-sided as human life. There is historical evidence,--itself of at\nleast a dozen different kinds,--literary evidence, metaphysical\nevidence, moral evidence, evidence of sorrow and joy, of goodness and\nof evil, of sin and of pardon, of despair and of hope, of life and of\ndeath; evidence which defies enumerating; into this the whole gradual\nlife of the Christian grows; and there is no part nor element of life\nwhich does not to him perpetually elucidate and confirm the knowledge\nwhich has been given him. Everything that is or has been, every\nconsciousness, every possibility, even every doubt or wavering,\nbecomes to the Christian a part of the certainty--an element in the\nabsorbing reality--of his Creed.\n\nBut this is rather the end than the beginning. Certainly it is not\nthus that the Creed of the Church can present itself to those whose\nlife is still independent of the Creed.\n\nLet us consider, then, how the truths of the Creed did first, in fact,\nintroduce themselves to human consciousness. There are three several\nstages of its presentment in history, of which the central one is so\novermastering in importance, that it alone gives their character to\nthe other two. They are, first, the leading up, in the world's history\nand consciousness, to the life of Jesus Christ; secondly, the life and\ndeath of Jesus Christ; thirdly, the results, in history and\nconsciousness, of the life and death of Jesus Christ. We may say,\nperhaps, that of the first of these the main outcome was belief in\nGod; and such a God, that belief in Him carried with it the two\ncorollaries of aspiration after righteousness, and conviction of sin.\nWe may say that the third of these means the establishment of the\nChurch upon earth, and the articulating of her consciousness according\nto the Creeds. But in any case all the three are plainly historical,\nmatters of historical inquiry, of historical evidence; and all plainly\ndepend entirely upon the intermediate one, the history of a certain\nhuman life which purports to be--which either is, or is not--the\nhinge-point of all history whatever.\n\nAll turns, then, upon a certain passage of history. Is the history, as\nbelieved by Christians, true or false? The Christian record of that\nhistory is the New Testament. Indeed, of that history, the New\nTestament is the only record. Is, then, the history of the teaching\nand the work, the life and the death, of Jesus Christ, presented to us\nin the New Testament as a chapter of historical fact,--is it\nhistorical fact, or is it not? The Incarnation is either a fact, or a\nfiction. The Incarnation means also for Christians the Atonement. For\nour present purpose, the Incarnation may be taken as necessarily\nincluding the Atonement. But still of this complex fact the dilemma\nstands. If it is not true, it is false. There is no middle term. If it\nis not true, then, whether dogma in itself is, or is not, desirable,\nat least all the dogma of the Christian Church is false.\n\nThe Incarnation and the Atonement together are not presented in the\nNew Testament as, by their own mere statement, guaranteeing\nthemselves. On the contrary, there is one single, definite, historical\nfact, which is represented there as the central heart and core of the\nevidence upon which the conviction of their truth depends. This fact\nis the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. Though this is not\nthe whole of the Christian Creed, yet this, according to S.\u00a0Paul, is,\nto the whole of the Christian Creed, crucial. 'If there be no\nresurrection from the dead, then is Christ not risen; and if Christ be\nnot risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain.\nYea, and we are found false witnesses of God; because we have\ntestified of God, that he raised up Christ; whom He raised not up, if\nso be that the dead rise not. For if the dead rise not, then is not\nChrist raised; and if Christ be not raised, your faith is vain, ye are\nyet in your sins.' To be direct personal evidence of a certain fact,\nand that fact the resurrection;--this was, in the view of S.\u00a0Peter and\nthe Apostles, the first qualification, and the central meaning, of\nApostleship: 'must one be ordained _to be a witness with us of His\nresurrection_;' 'this Jesus hath God raised up, _whereof we all are\nwitnesses_.' Upon the historical truth or falsehood, then, of the\nresurrection, hangs the whole question of the nature and work of Jesus\nChrist, the whole doctrine of Incarnation and Atonement.\n\nBut in saying this, it is necessary to guard our proper meaning. If we\nadmit the fact of the Resurrection to be cardinal, what is the fact of\nthe Resurrection which is in question? It is as far as possible from\nbeing simply a question whether 'a man' could or could not, did or did\nnot, reappear, after death, in life. When we speak of the historical\nfact, we must mean at least the whole fact with all that it was and\nmeant, complex as it was and many-sided; not with its meaning or its\nproof isolated upon a single page of the book of history, but having\nfar-reaching affinities, parts essentially of its interpretation and\nof its evidence, entwined in the depths of the whole constitution of\nour nature, and the whole drama of history from the first moment to\nthe last. However much Christians may have at times to argue about the\nsimple evidence for the 'yes' or 'no' of the Resurrection of Jesus, as\nif it were the alleged resurrection of any other man that was in\nquestion, neither the question itself, nor the evidence about it, can\npossibly be, in fact, of the same nature or upon the same level, as\nthe evidence about another. No amount of conviction of the\nreappearance in life of any other man, would have any similar meaning,\nor carry any similar consequences. The inherent character of Him who\nrose, and the necessary connection between what He was, and had said\nand claimed for Himself, on the one hand, and on the other His rising\nout of death; this is an essential part of that fact of the\nresurrection, which comes up for proof or disproof. The fact that\nJesus Christ, _being what He was_, the climax and fulfilment of a\nthousand converging lines--nay, of all the antecedent history of\nmankind--rose from the dead, and by that fact of resurrection\n(solemnly fore-announced, yet none the less totally unlooked for)\nilluminated and explained for the first time all that before had\nseemed enigmatical or contradictory in what He was,--and indeed in all\nhumanity; this is the real fact of the resurrection which confronts\nus. It is this vast fact which is either true or false. The\nresurrection of the crucified Jesus cannot possibly be a bare or\nsimple fact. When viewed as a material manifestation of the moment\nonly, it is at least misunderstood; it may be unintelligible. It is,\nno doubt, an event in history; and yet it confronts us, even there in\nits place and witness in history, not simply as a finite historical\nevent, but as an eternal counsel and infinite act of God.\n\nYet there are times when we must consent to leave much of all this,\nfor the moment, on one side. Whatever else the event in history may\ncarry with it, of course it must stand its ground as a mere historical\nevent. The mere fact may be but a part of it; yet all will be\noverthrown if the fact be not fact. And so, though the truths of the\nChristian religion, and the evidence for them, be at least as wide as\nwas represented above, yet they present themselves to our minds still,\nas they presented themselves at first to the minds of men, within the\nsphere and the rules of ordinary human history and historical\nevidence. Here are events written on the page of history. Examine\nthem. Are they historically false or true? If they be not false, what\ndo they mean and involve? This is the modest way in which they present\nthemselves.\n\nNo one will now dispute that Jesus died upon the Cross. If He did not,\non the third day, rise again from that death to life;--cadit\nquaestio--all Christian dogma, all Christian faith, is at an end.\nSomething might still be true which might be of interest; something,\neven, which for sheer want of a better, might be still the most\ninteresting fact in the world's long history; but something which,\nfrom the first line to the last, would be essentially different from\nthe Catholic faith. But, on the other hand, if He did so rise again,\nthen the fact of His resurrection necessarily raises further questions\nas to His nature and being,--necessarily requires the understanding of\nfurther truths for its own intelligent explanation. Now the present\npaper is not an evidential treatise. It is no part of our task to\nattempt to prove the historical reality of the resurrection. What it\ndoes concern us to notice is the way in which the determination of all\nChristian truth hinges upon it. If it falls, all the rest will drift\naway, anchorless and unsubstantial, into the region of a merely\nbeautiful dreamland. As dreamland, indeed, it may still captivate and\ninspire; but anchor of sure fact there will be none. It will only be a\nbeautiful imagination,--a false mirage reflected from, based upon,\nfalsehood. No doubt imagination is sovereign in the lives of men. But\nthen imagination means the vivifying of truth, not the spectral\nembodiment of a lie.\n\nOn the other hand, if the fact of the resurrection stands, then it\ncannot stand alone. If Jesus Christ so lived and taught as even the\nmost indefinite believers concede that He lived and taught, if He then\ndied on the Cross, _and rose again the third day from, the dead_, you\nhave indeed already the foundation dogma of the Creed; and having\nthat, you cannot possibly rest in it: that foundation fact will\nabsolutely compel you to ask and to answer certain further necessary\nquestions; and whatever intelligible answer you may choose to give to\nthem will be essentially a dogmatic definition. Who or what was this\nman who thus lived, thus spoke, thus died, and thus rose from the\ndead? As a matter of fact, the whole Church of Christ in history\n(including the men who had been His own companions, trained and\ninspired by Himself,) taught and believed, without shadow of\nhesitation, that He was very God. Very gradually, indeed, had they\nadvanced to this; step by step, through their growing intimacy with a\ncharacter whose very excellences were only enigmatical and\nconfounding, so long as the master-truth, which lay behind them, was\nignored. And very tentative, on His side, was the method of His\nself-revelation; through qualities, through inherent powers, through\nexplicit teachings, slowly felt, slowly recognised, as transcendent,\nas impossible, except in relation to a truth which, after long\nmisconceptions and perplexities, is seen by them at last not only to\nbe true, but to be the essential truth which He Himself requires of\nthem. For, be the method as gradual and as tentative as you please,\nthese witnesses, who are, in fact, the only witnesses the world ever\nhas had, or can have, of His inner life and teaching, testify\nunhesitatingly not only that all true acceptance of Him was, in their\njudgment, acceptance of Him as God, but that His life and death were\npenetrated by the consciousness of His own Godhead; and by the\ndeliberate purpose (through whatever unexpected patience of method) of\nconvincing the whole world in the end of His Godhead, and receiving\nuniversal belief, and universal worship, as God.\n\nNow no one to-day disputes that He was truly man. Is it true that He\nwas very God? It is either true or false. As to the fact there are\nonly the two alternatives. And between the two the gulf is impassable.\nIf it is not false, it is true. If it is not absolutely true, it is\nabsolutely false. According to the faith of the Catholic Church it is\nabsolutely true. According to the highest form of Arianism, not less\nthan according to the barest Socinianism, it is (however you may try\nto gloss it over) absolutely false.\n\nOnce more, it is quite beyond our province to marshal or press\nargumentatively the proofs that He was indeed God. But it is necessary\nto see with perfect clearness, how the question must have been raised,\nand being raised must have been answered. The very life of the Church\nwas belief in Him; and she could not remain fundamentally uncertain as\nto who or what He was in whom she believed. This was the one thing\nwhich had never been allowed to those who drew near Christ. All\nthrough His ministry those who came near Him, and felt the spell of\nHis presence, His holiness, His power, were undergoing a training and\na sifting. Moment by moment, step by step, the accumulating evidence\nof His transcendently perfect humanity kept forcing more and more upon\nthem all the question which He would never let them escape, the\nquestion by which they were to be tested and judged; 'What think ye of\nChrist?' 'If ye believe not that I am He, ye shall die in your sins.'\n\nIf there is a true historical sense in which the clear definition of\nthe doctrine of the Divinity of Jesus Christ must be assigned to the\nCouncils of the fourth and fifth centuries, yet it would be a great\nhistorical blunder to state or imagine, as inference, that till then\nthe doctrine was only held partially or with imperfect consciousness\nin the Catholic Church. The Church did not, as a result of those\ncontroversies, develop the consciousness of any new doctrine: the\ndevelopment of her consciousness was rather in respect of the shallow\nbut tempting logic which would deform, or the delusions which might\ncounterfeit, her doctrine, and of the perils to which these must lead.\nIt may be a question, indeed, how far the words implicit and explicit\ndo, or do not, represent the distinction between the dogmatic\nconsciousness of the Apostolic and the Conciliar ages. The difficulty\nin determining depends solely on this, that the words themselves are\nused with different meanings. Thus, sometimes men are said to hold\nimplicitly what they never perhaps suspected themselves of holding, if\nit can be shewn to be a more or less legitimate outcome, or logical\ndevelopment, of their belief. If such men advance inferentially from\npoint to point, their explicit belief at a later time may be, in many\nparticulars, materially different from what it had been at an earlier;\neven though it might be logically shewn that the earlier thought was,\nmore or less directly, the parent of the later. Now in any such sense\nas this we shall stoutly maintain that, from the beginning, the Church\nheld dogmatic truths not implicitly, but explicitly and positively.\nThey who baptized into the threefold Name of the Father, and of the\nSon, and of the Holy Ghost; whose blessing was 'The grace of the Lord\nJesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy\nGhost;' who, living in the Spirit, lived in Christ; whose highest\nworship was the Communion of the Body and the Blood of Christ, and\nwhose perfectness of life was Christ; they, so living and worshipping,\ndid not hold the Godhead of Jesus Christ implicitly; they did not hold\nsomething out of which the doctrine of the Trinity might come to be\nunfolded. On the other hand, you may use the same contrast of words,\nmeaning merely that you have, through cross-questioning or otherwise,\nobtained a power which you did not possess, of defining, in thought\nand in words, the limits of your belief, and distinguishing it\nprecisely from whatever does not belong to it. You hold still what you\nalways meant to hold. You say still what you always meant to say. But\nit is your intellectual mastery over your own meaning which is\naltered. Like a person fresh from the encounter of a keen\ncross-examination, you are furnished now, as you were not before, with\ndistinctions and comparisons, with definitions and measurements,--in a\nword, with all that intellectual equipment, that furniture of alert\nperception and exact language, by which you are able to realize for\nyourself, as well as to define to others, what that meaning exactly\nis, and what it is not, which itself was before, as truly as it is\nnow, the very thing that you meant.\n\nIn this sense, no doubt, the definitions of councils did make\nChristian consciousness more explicit in relation to positive truth.\nThey acquired, indeed, no new truth. Primarily they were rather, on\nthis side or on that, a blocking off of such false forms of thought or\navenues of unbalanced inference, as forced themselves forward, one by\none, amidst the intellectual efforts of the time, to challenge the\nacceptance of Christian people. Primarily they are not the Church\nsaying 'yes' to fresh truths, or developments, or forms of\nconsciousness; but rather saying 'no' to untrue and misleading modes\nof shaping and stating her truth. Only indirectly, in that effort, the\nChurch acquires through them a new definiteness of mastery for the\nintellect in reference to the exactness of her own meaning.\n\nIt is comparatively easy for those who are convinced of a truth to\nstruggle against its open contradiction. But false modes of stating\ntheir truth, and unbalanced inferences from their truth, are often\nstaggering to minds which would be unperplexed by any less insidious\nform of error. It may be that, in all ages of the Church, even those\nwho are born and bred in undoubting faith in the Person of Jesus, have\nto pass, more or less explicitly, through their own experience of\nhesitation and exaggeration, of reaction and counter-reaction, before\nthey are quite in a position to define, or maintain by argument in the\nface of insidious alternatives, the exact proportion of their own\nCatholic belief.\n\nNot unsuggestively, indeed, nor indirectly, do the oscillations of the\npublic consciousness in the era of the councils, as to the due\nexpression of Catholic belief, reproduce on a larger scale, and\ntherefore with more magnified clumsiness, the alternating\nexaggerations of such a single struggling mind. The natural thought\nbegins, as a matter of course, as Apostles had begun of old, with the\nperfect and obvious certainty that Jesus was a man. Then comes the\nmighty crisis to natural thought. With infinite heavings and\nstrugglings, and every conceivable expedient of evasion, it strains to\navoid the immense conclusion which challenges it, catching eagerly at\nevery refinement, if so be it may be possible to stop short of full\nacceptance of a truth so staggering (when it comes to be measured\nintellectually) as that the Man Jesus was Himself the Eternal God. Now\nhowever grossly unjust it might be to think of Arianism as if it ever\nmeant, or held, Jesus Christ to be merely a man; yet it is true that\nin respect of the one great question which is at the root of Christian\nfaith,--is He God, or is He not?--it stands as offering alternatives\nand expedients, by which the plain answer 'yes' may be avoided; by\nwhich therefore the answer 'no' is in effect maintained; for between\n'God' and 'not God' the distinction cannot be bridged. This, then, is\nthe real hinge-point of the Catholic faith. But when this, the\ngreatest of all battles of belief, is won at last, in spite of every\nvariety of Arian and semi-Arian refining; forthwith the undisciplined\nmind, always ready to exaggerate, always difficult of balance, begins\nso to run into ardour of expression of its truth, as in effect to make\nunreal the other half of the doctrine of the Incarnation. The first\ngreat wonder once grasped, it is so natural, in fervour of insistance\non the very Godhead, to forget or deny the simple completeness of the\nvery Manhood! It seems so hard,--almost wanting in reverence,--still\nto conceive of Him then as perfectly human,--human body and human\nsoul! What more obvious reaction in the mind of any pupil not yet\nperfectly steadied and balanced? Yet these few short sentences\nrepresent not untruly the real process of education, painfully\naccomplished by those intellectual struggles which culminated in the\ncouncils of Nicaea and Constantinople, in 325 and 381 respectively.\nAnd when the pupil is steadied from this second excess, and the\nGodhead and the Manhood are both grasped, each severally, each\ncompletely, there follows again a perfectly natural result in a new\nuncertainty about the union of the two in Jesus. Again it seems an\ninstinct of reverence which shrinks from the truth. For the Manhood,\nit is urged, though complete, body, soul, and spirit, must yet remain,\nin Him, a thing separable and separate from His own original Divine\npersonality. But if the human nature was not verily His own nature, if\nit was animated by any consciousness which was not absolutely His own\nconsciousness, the consciousness of His one undivided personality,--what\nor whence in Him was this other than His own individual consciousness?\nIs it so, then, the mind begins necessarily to ask itself, that the\nmystery of the Incarnate Life was the mystery of a double consciousness,\na double personality? two distinguishable existences, two selves, two\nidentities, side by side, harmonious, allied, yet nowhere really\nmeeting in any one underlying principle of unity? It was necessary\nthat the doubt should be raised, that its meaning and results might be\nmeasured. But it is this which becomes the Nestorianism against which\nthe council of Ephesus in 431 set the seal of Catholic belief. Once\nmore, the natural reaction from Nestorianism, when the believer is\nkeenly alert against its danger, is so to insist upon the indivisible\nPersonal unity, as to shrink from the admission of any distinguishableness\nin Him, actual or possible, between the two natures or characters\nwhich He united, between the human and the Divine elements in His one\nconsciousness. But this is either once more to curtail the true\ncompleteness of the human nature, or to fuse it with the Divine into\nsome new thing not truly identical with either. And this is the\nMonophysitism of 451, the subject-matter of the fourth great general\ncouncil at Chalcedon.\n\nIt is said, indeed, that the ages of councils were uncritical ages;\nand that their decisions are therefore not to be accepted as\nauthoritative on questions of minute theological criticism, for which\ntheir uncritical spirit made them specially unfit. The assertion is\nperhaps a little beside the mark. You have not to plead that they were\nlikely to be uncritical, but to shew that they were in fact wrong. It\nis clear that they were not specially unfit either to arrive at a\ndefiniteness of meaning, or to express what they meant. They were sure\nwhat they meant; and have expressed it with perfect clearness. The\nquestion is not how critical they were likely to be, but whether their\nmeaning--which is clear--is right or wrong. Whatever antecedent\nprobability there may be either in the minds of nineteenth century\ncritics against their correctness, or in the minds of Churchmen\naccustomed to defer to them in favour of it; it is certain that no one\nwho is really doubtful about the truth of Christianity, will be called\nupon to accept it in deference to the mere authority of the Councils.\nHowever much more they may be to ourselves, to such an one as this\nthey must stand at least as witnesses of what the consciousness of the\nChristian community set its seal to, in the way of interpretation of\nits own original deposit of belief. We do not much care to argue\nwhether they belonged to an age of criticism or not. Yet we must needs\nbe ready to listen to anyone who can prove that their determinations\nwere wrong. Councils, we admit, and Creeds, cannot go behind, but must\nwholly rest upon the history of our Lord Jesus Christ. If anyone could\nseriously convict the Creeds of being unscriptural, we must listen to\nhim and bow,--as scientific men would have to bow to anyone who really\ncould prove the fundamental propositions of their science to be wrong.\nBut meanwhile, so complete is the historical acceptance of the Creeds,\nand their consecration in the consciousness of the Church; that there\nis at least as clear a presumption that we are uncatholic in differing\nfrom them, as there would be that we were unscientific if we dissented\nfrom the most universally accepted faiths of science.\n\nNow even this, the most commonplace statement of the growth of\nChristian definitions, will serve to mark what the nature of dogma is.\nSo far from faith without it being a thing more spiritual or pure,\nfaith without it is a thing irrational. Faith in what? I cannot have\nfaith without an object. Faith in Jesus Christ? But who is Jesus\nChrist? Is He a dead man? Is He, as a dead man, no longer in any\nexistence? Or am I, at least, necessarily ignorant as to whether He\nand other dead men have any existence, actual or probable? Or is He a\nman indeed,--no more; and dead indeed; but, as other good men, alive\nafter death somehow in the blessedness of God? And what then did His\nlife mean? or His strange deliberate dying? or what connection have\nthey of meaning or power with me? And this God that you speak of; do I\nknow anything of Him? or what? or how? Or again, is Jesus Himself the\nliving God? And are the things true which are handed down to me in the\nChurch as taught by Himself about the relations of God? Is He my\nliving Master; my very Redeemer by the Cross; my eternal Judge? and\nwhere and how have I contact in life or soul with the benefits of His\nCross, or the power of His help? If indeed I have nothing to do with\nHim, and no interest in His history, it is possible for me to go on\nwithout caring to answer such questions. But faith in Him can have no\nmeaning while these are ignored. The question whether He is or is not\nGod, is one which cannot but be asked and answered.\n\nAnd either answer to the question is alike dogmatic. The Arian is no\nless dogmatic than the Catholic. A dogmatic faith is only a definite\nfaith; and that upon questions upon which it has become irrational to\nremain indefinite, after I have once been brought to a certain point\nof acquaintance with them. The question between the Catholic and the\nArian is, not whose doctrine evades definiteness of determination, but\nwhose dogma is in accord with the truth and its evidence. The negative\nanswer to the question proposed would only be unjudicial, not\nundogmatic. Meanwhile, the affirmative answer would be so complete a\nconcession of the whole position, that if it has once been made, as\nmuch has really been admitted, so far as any battle, about dogma goes,\nas if the whole formal statement of the Athanasian Creed had been\nexpressly, as it will have been implicitly, included. There is\nnothing, then, really to fight against in these words, 'The right\nfaith is, that we believe and confess that our Lord Jesus Christ, the\nSon of God, is God and Man; God, of the substance of the Father,\nbegotten before the worlds: and Man, of the substance of His mother,\nborn in the world; perfect God, and perfect Man: of a reasonable soul\nand human flesh subsisting; equal to the Father, as touching His\nGodhead; and inferior to the Father, as touching His Manhood. Who\nalthough He be God and Man: yet He is not two, but one Christ; One;\nnot by conversion of the Godhead into flesh; but by taking of the\nManhood into God; One altogether; not by confusion of substance, but\nby unity of Person.'\n\nAnother thing which perhaps the same commonplace statement may\nillustrate as to the character of Christian dogma, is its largeness\nand equity. It is harmony; it is proportion; it is the protest of\nbalanced completeness against all that partiality, which, by\nexaggerating something that is true, distorts the proportion and\nsimplicity of truth. Every several form of error,--we admit it\nwillingly,--grew out of, and represented, a truth. Catholic doctrine\nalone preserves the proportion of truth. To work and to think within\nthe lines of dogmatic faith, is to work and to think upon the true and\nharmonious conception of the Person of Jesus Christ--'Quem nosse\nvivere, Cui servire regnare.' In this knowledge certainly there is no\nlimitedness, and in this subordination no slavery.\n\nThe meaning of Christian dogma, then, so far as we have at present had\nanything to do with it, is simply this. It is the self-realizing of\nthe consciousness of the Christian community in respect of the answer\nto be given to that one great question, fundamental and inevitable,\nwith which all in all times who would approach Christ must be\nmet,--'Whom say ye that I am?'\n\nBut, it will be felt, it is all very well to insist so much upon this\none point, which it is comparatively easy to represent as the\nnecessary answer of a truthful conscience to a question which is\nforced upon it by the plainest evidence;--but are there not a great\nmany Christian doctrines besides? What of the rest of them,--'all the\narticles of the Christian faith,' as the Catechism says? I have\nventured to speak at length upon this one, not because it is easier to\nhandle conveniently than the others, but because it directly carries,\nif it does not contain, everything. It is not only that this is in\nitself so tremendous a dogma, that no one who affirms this can\npossibly quarrel any longer with the principle of dogmatic definition,\nbut that this so inevitably involves all the other propositions of the\nCreed, that no one, whose conscience has accepted this, will find it\neasy to separate between it and the whole Christian faith.\n\nThe Christian Creed consists of three parts only; and all three are,\n'Belief in God.' 'I believe in God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy\nGhost' is, in brief, the whole Christian Creed. Its shortest\nexpression is in three words (which three words are but one), 'Holy,\nHoly, Holy.' The definitions of the Apostles', of the Nicene, and of\nthe Athanasian Creeds, none of them really travel outside of this.\nTake, for example, the doctrine of the Holy Trinity. Intellectually it\nis, of course, antecedent to the doctrine of the Incarnation and the\nAtonement. But it will be observed that it is made known to us not\nantecedently, but as a consequence of our previous conviction of the\nIncarnation. Moreover, when it is made known, it is made known rather\nincidentally than directly. Even though it is, when revealed and\napprehended, the inclusive sum of our faith, yet there is, in the\nrevelation, no formal unfolding of it, as of a mysterious truth set to\nchallenge our express contemplation and worship. There is nothing here\nto be found in the least corresponding with the explicit challenge,\n'Whom say ye that I am?' or 'On this rock will I build My Church;' but\nrather indirectly, so far as our contemplation of the Incarnation, and\nits abiding consequences, requires for its own necessary\ninterpretation to our understanding, that we should have some insight\ninto the mystery of the distinction of Persons in the Godhead, so far,\nand in reference to that purpose, the mystery of the Holy Trinity\ngrows gradually into clearness of revelation to our consciousness. It\nis clear that any distinctness of conception whatever as to the\nmeaning of Incarnation would be impossible, without some revelation of\nmutual relations between the Sender and the Sent, the Immutable and\nthe Incarnate, the Father and the Son. If it is less clear from the\nfirst, it is surely not less certain, that any conception we may have\nof the relation so revealed between the Father and the Son, would be\nfainter by far, and less intelligible than it is, if it were not for\nthat which our Lord Jesus Christ has told us as to the office and\nnature of the Holy Spirit; if with our growing conception of\ndistinctness and relation as between the Sender and the Sent, we had\nnot also some added conception of that Blessed Spirit of Holiness,\nWho, emanating from both, is the Spirit of both alike, and is thereby\nalso the very bond of perfectness of Love whereby both are united in\nOne; and whereby, further, all spirits in whom God's presence dwells,\nare united, so far, in a real oneness of spirit with one another and\nwith God. And it is quite certain, that whether we seem to anyone to\nbe right or no in treating this revelation of the Holy Ghost as a\nnecessary, if incidental, part of what we had need to be taught of the\nrevelation of the Father and the Son, in order to make Incarnation\nproperly intelligible; it is altogether essential for that other\npurpose, in connection with which the revelation is more immediately\nmade, that is, for any understanding on our part of the abiding work\nof God in His Church, after the Resurrection and Ascension. 'The holy\nCatholic Church, the Communion of Saints, the Forgiveness of sins, the\nResurrection of the body, and the life everlasting;' these are not\nmiscellaneous items thrown in at the end of the Creed after the\ndoctrine of the Holy Trinity is finished, but they are essential parts\nof the understanding of the doctrine of the Holy Ghost: and on the\nother hand, without the revelation of the Person and work of the Holy\nGhost, these doctrines, practical though they be, and vital for\npractice,--no less indeed than the very essence and meaning of the\nwork of the Incarnation from the day of Ascension forwards, that is to\nsay the whole historical effect and fruit of the Incarnation,--would\nbe evacuated of all living meaning, and would become for us only the\nempty phrases of a far-away baseless yearning, which even now (apart\nfrom the life of the Holy Spirit informing us) they are ever too ready\nto become.\n\nIt is hoped that even such brief statements may at least serve to\nindicate how it is true that the whole of our Christian creed, even\nthose parts which seem most separable from it, or antecedent to it,\nare for us really contained in the one crucial doctrine of the\nIncarnation, that is, of the eternal Godhead of the Man Christ Jesus.\nAnd this will compel us once more to recognise the simplicity of\nChristian dogma. It does not mean a complicated system of arbitrary\ndefinitions upon a great variety of subjects of religious speculation,\nformulated one after another by human ingenuity, and imposed by human\ndespotism upon the consciences of the unthinking or the submissive; it\nmeans rather the simple expression (guarded according to experience of\nmisconception) of the fundamental fact of the Incarnation, together\nwith such revelation as to the relations of the Divine Being, and the\nwonder of His work amongst men, as is clearly lit up by the event of\nthe Incarnation itself, and is required for such apprehension of the\nmeaning and effects of the Incarnation, as Jesus Christ held to be\nmeet and necessary for us.\n\nAnd so it is with all parts of Christian doctrine. If they would be\nfound to be necessarily contained in a full unfolding of the great\ntruth which the Creed so briefly and simply declares, then they really\nare parts of our faith, because they are really involved in the\nunderstanding of the threefold revelation to man of the Name of God,\nwhich is the sum total of our faith. But if the Name of our God does\nnot contain them, they are not in our creed or our faith. Is there,\nfor example, a visible Church? Is there an Apostolic Ministry? The\nanswer depends on the inquiry as to what is revealed, first in\nScripture, and then in history, as to the method of the working of the\nSpirit of Christ in the world. Did the Old Testament prefigure, in\naction and in utterance, did the Incarnation require, did the Gospels\ninterpret or comment upon, did the Apostles organize or govern, any\ndefinitely articulated society, with ceremonies or officers, rules or\ndiscipline, of its own? Was this, the method of association and\nmembership, or was some other, the mode of the working of the Spirit\nof the Christ among men? Is the work of Christ, in redeeming and\nreconciling to God, is His present relation to the world, properly\nintelligible, or not,--apart from the Church? Is the ministry of the\nChurch, or are the sacraments of the Church, to those who thoughtfully\nread Scripture and history, a demonstrable part, or normal condition,\nof the working of the Holy Ghost in the Church? If so, belief in them\nis contained in my words, not only when I say, 'I believe in the holy\nCatholic Church,' but also, though less plainly, when I say, 'I\nbelieve in the Holy Ghost.' But if not, it is not contained. If they\nare really separable from the Catholic Church, truly understood, or\nfrom the understanding of the Holy Spirit and His work, then they are\nno part of what any Christian need believe. But so far as the holy\nCatholic Church,--so far as the orderly, covenanted work of the Holy\nSpirit in the world,--involves and contains the idea of the ministry\nor the sacraments, so far every Christian will know, just in\nproportion as he knows the true meaning of his creed, that he is bound\nto them. It is no part of my business to pursue the question of the\nsacraments or the ministry further here.\n\nIt may be observed, perhaps, that the Creed contains no proposition\nexpressly about ourselves,--about the fall, for instance, or about\nsin. Yet in and from the first word of the Creed, I of course am\npresent there: and as to formal propositions about myself, it may be\nthat they are not so much articles of belief, as, rather, conditions\nof mind antecedent to belief, conditions of self-consciousness to\nwhich belief fits and responds, and without which the Creed itself\nwould be unintelligible. But what is thus necessarily implied and\ninvolved in the terms of the Creed, is after all substantially\ncontained in that Creed to which it is a condition of intelligibleness.\nOf course my creed necessarily presupposes myself. I cannot believe at\nall, except I am, and have a certain history and faculties. I cannot\nbelieve in God as Father, as Almighty, as Creator, without implying\nand including within that belief the fundamental facts of my nature\nand relation to Him. I cannot believe in the Incarnation and the\nRedemption, their meaning or their consequences, I cannot believe in\nthe Holy Spirit, or have any intelligent apprehension of His working,\nexcept there be implied, as conditions of my consciousness necessary\nto that intelligence, some apprehension of that which is meant by the\nfall, some inalienable sense of evil, of sin, of the banishment from\nGod which is the fruit of sin, of the inherent contradiction to my\nnature, the unnatural penalty and horror, which the banishment of sin\ninvolves. So probation, judgment, heaven, hell, are beliefs which grow\nby inevitable consequence out of the apprehension, once grasped, of\nthe nature and distinction of good and evil; they are necessary\ncorollaries from the full perception of the eternal rightness of\nright, the eternal wrongness of wrong, the eternal separation and\ncontrast between right and wrong; in a word, from belief in God on the\npart of man.\n\nPerhaps this illustration may serve to shew how much, that is not\nobvious in the letter, may nevertheless be really contained in man's\nutterance of the Name of God.\n\n\nIII. But while the doctrines of the Church which her Creeds express\nare thus as simple as they are profound, it is no doubt true that\nthere has grown up round about them a considerable body of theological\nteaching, more or less complicated, which is really of the nature of\ncomment upon them, or explication of their nature and meaning. When we\nspeak of the dogmas of Christianity, it is right to distinguish, with\nthe clearest possible line of demarcation, between all this mass of\nexplanatory teaching (more or less authoritative as it may from time\nto time appear to be) and the central truths themselves, which are our\nreal certainties. The doctrine itself is one thing: the theories\nexplicative of the doctrine are another. They may be of the highest\nvalue in their own time and place; but they are not the immutable\nprinciples of Church truth. To say this is not really to depreciate\nthe work of theological writers and teachers of different ages; but it\nis to assign to their work its true position. The current mode of\nexplaining a doctrine in one age, and bringing it home by\nillustrations to the imagination of men, may be discredited and\nsuperseded in another. When the current mode of statement or\nillustration begins to be more or less discredited, the minds of quiet\npeople are apt to be distressed. This is because very few of us can\ndistinguish between the truths themselves which we hold, and the\n(often mistaken) modes of expression by which we seem to explain our\ntruths to ourselves. Even when our explanation is substantially true,\nthe doctrine is still a different thing from our explanation of it;\nand if any imperfection is detected in our explanation of it, it is\nnot truth which suffers; it is only that truth is being distinguished\nfrom our imperfect and unconscious glosses; and thereby in the end the\ntruth can only be served. Perhaps no illustration of this can be more\nconvincing than that which the history of the doctrine of Atonement\nsupplies. That Christ died upon the cross for us, that He offered\nHimself as a sacrifice, and that we are redeemed through His blood,\nthis is a belief fundamental to Christianity; nor has the Church ever\nwavered for an instant in her strong faith in this. But when we go\nfurther, and come to the different illustrations that have been given\nto make the precise nature of Atonement clear to human logic, when in\nfact we enter upon the domain of explicative theories, we have not\nonly left the sure ground of the Creeds, and embarked upon views which\nmay or may not be correct, but we find, as a fact, that the modes of\nthought which seemed adequately to explain the doctrine to the\nconscience of some ages, have not only failed to satisfy, but have\nactually shocked and offended, others. The teaching that God was\nangry, but that Jesus, as a result of gentler mercy, and through His\ninnocent blood, appeased, by satisfying, the wrath of the Father, and\nso reconciled God to us; the teaching that Satan had obtained a right\nover man, but that Jesus, by giving up Himself, paid a splendid ransom\ninto the hands of Satan; the teaching that a debt was due from\nhumanity to God, and that Jesus, clothed as man, alone could deliver\nman by discharging God's debt: these--be they popular blunderings, or\ngenuine efforts of Theology--may, in their times, have both helped and\nwounded consciences; but whether they be to us as helps or hindrances,\nit is of the utmost importance that we should discriminate them, or\nothers which may have succeeded to them as theories explanatory of the\nAtonement, from our cardinal belief in the Atonement itself. We may\nhave rightly seen what is vicious in these statements, and we may have\ngreatly improved upon them, but however much more helpful our modes of\nexposition may prove themselves to our own minds or those of our\nhearers, we may only be repeating the old error, and leading the way\nto fresh distresses in the future, if we confound our mode of\nexplanatory comment with the truth of the doctrine itself, and claim\nthat the mysterious fact of the Atonement means exactly that which is\nour own best approach to a statement, in illustrative words, of what\nit expresses to us.\n\nBut it may be asked, Are you not saying too much? Does not this seem\nto mean that the doctrines themselves are little better than\nunintelligible symbols, which need not indeed be changed for the\nsimple reason that they can be made to mean whatever is necessary to\nsuit the times? No, the truth of them does not change; and even the\nchangeful modes of presenting them are less changeful, after all, than\nthey seem. They cannot indefinitely vary; there is one thing which\nunites them all, and that is the truth itself which lies behind them\nall. The Atonement is a fact, whether I can adequately expound it or\nno. The Atonement is a fact, which my attempted expositions do indeed\nrepresent, more or less correctly, more or less clumsily, even when I\nseem most to have failed. Much as they may seem to differ, and\ninconsistent as they may appear with each other, yet not one of them\nreally represents untruth but truth. Imperfect images they may be, and\nin respect of their imperfections, diverse and distorting; yet there\nis not one of the theories of Atonement referred to above--not even\nsuch as are now seen to contain most error--which did not, as\nseriously held, represent and convey some real image of the truth. It\nmay be that the truth which they represented was conveyed in an\ninexact way; and that afterwards, when attention was concentrated on\nthe points of inexactness, the statement became, and would have\nbecome, more and more misleading; it was no longer then a possible\nvehicle of truth; but what it had really conveyed to those to whom it\nwas living, was a real soul-enlightening image of the truth of the\nAtonement. It was an imperfect image; it was even in part a distorted\nimage,--as everything that I see through my window is in part\ndistorted. But it was a real image of the real truth none the less.\n\nLocal and popular modes of exposition then are often as the medium\nthrough which dogmatic truth is seen and apprehended,--not always,\ncertainly, without distortion. But the more catholic the truth, the\nmore it retains its identity of form, however remote from each other,\nin place or time, the diverse types of mind which view and teach it,\nso much the purer must it be from accidental or temporary\nconditionings; so much the nearer, in rank, to a fundamental doctrine\nof the Catholic Church.\n\nWe do not, of course, distinguish Catholic dogma from theological\nliterature, as though the one were bare facts, and the other all\nexplanations of the facts. But we may rightly confine the use of the\nword 'dogma' to the fundamental facts, together with such explanation\nof them as the Church has agreed, by universal instinct, or by\ndogmatic decree endorsed through ecumenical acceptance, to be\nessential to a reasonable apprehension of the facts.\n\nIt is the more important to guard with unfaltering clearness this\ndistinction between dogma on the one hand, and theological literature\non the other, because it is, no doubt, in the sphere of explanatory\ntheories and expressions, that most of those controversies find their\nplace, which distress quiet minds, and rouse hot battles of orthodoxy\nbetween sincere Christian combatants. If it could be recognised at the\ntime how far the apparent innovators of successive generations were\nreally questioning not the doctrines themselves, but certain\ntraditional modes of thought and teaching which have wrongly adhered\nto the doctrines, there would be fewer accusations of heterodoxy, and\nless distress and perplexity amongst the orthodox. But it is natural\nenough that this should not be perceived by the defenders, when the\ninnovators themselves are so often both blind and indifferent to it.\nAnd it is just herein that the different innovators are apt to make\nthemselves indefensible. Too often they think that they are making\nreal advance upon the doctrines of the Church and her Creeds, and they\nare elated, instead of being ashamed, at the thought. They make light\nof loyalty, they despise the birthright of their Churchmanship, and\nfind their own self-exaltation in the very consciousness of offending\ntheir brethren. This, whether done under provocation or no, is to\ndepart from the spirit of the Church of Christ, in temper and meaning\nat least,--even though their work in the long run should prove (as it\nmust so far as there is truth in it) only to serve the interest and\nwork of the Church.\n\nIt is easier to see this in retrospect than in struggle. But perhaps\nthose who look back upon the struggles of the last generation within\nthe Church, will recognise that the orthodox thought of the present\nday has been not a little cleared and served, not merely by the work\nof orthodox defence, but in no small part by the work of the\n'liberalizers' also. To say this, is by no means necessarily to acquit\nthe liberalizers, or to cast a slur upon those who fought against\nthem. Such condemnations or acquittals depend upon other\nconsiderations, which do not concern us here. But putting wholly aside\nas irrelevant all condemnation or acquittal of individuals, we may yet\nacknowledge that the work done has in the end served the cause of the\ntruth and the Church. This is said, of course, of its real\nintellectual outcome; certainly not of the unsettling of souls by the\nway. And it is also to be noted that even when the fruit of their work\nhas been in a real sense, after all, accepted and incorporated, it is\nhardly ever in the sense, and never quite with the results, which\nthey, so far as they had allowed themselves to be malcontents, had\nsupposed. But if whatever is good and true in their work becomes,\nafter all, an element in the consciousness of the Church, might not\nthe work itself have been done, all along, in perfect Church loyalty?\nIn so far as different earnest writers of a generation ago, or of\nto-day, are really, whether consciously or not, making a contribution\nto one of the great theological tasks of our time, in so far (that is)\nas they are helping towards the correction of erroneous fancies of\npopular theology,--helping, for instance, to modify that superstitious\nover-statement about 'justification' which would really leave no\nmeaning in 'righteousness;' or to limit the grossness of the theory\noften represented by the word 'imputation;' or to rebuke the nervous\nselfishness of religionists whose one idea of the meaning of religion\nwas 'to be saved;' or to qualify the materialism or superstition of\nignorant sacramentalists; or to banish dogmatic realisms about hell,\nor explications of atonement which malign God's Fatherhood; or the\nfreezing chill and paralysis of all life supposed before now to be\nnecessarily involved in the Apostolic words 'predestination' and\n'election;' so far they are really, though it may be from the outside\nand very indirectly, doing the work of the Church. But the pity of it\nis that the men who do this kind of service are so apt to spoil it, by\novervaluing themselves and forgetting the loveliness and the power of\nperfect subordination to the Church. We may own that Church people and\nChurch rulers have too often been the stumbling-block. It is they who\nagain and again have seemed to fight against everything, and by\nintellectual apathy, and stern moral proscription of every form of\nmental difficulty (wherein oftentimes are the birth-throes of\nenlightenment) to drive living and growing intelligence out of the\nChurch. It is true that the greatest of Churchmen would, if the badge\nof their work were submissiveness, have sometimes to wait awhile, and\nbear delay, and wrong from inferior minds, with the patience of\nhumility. Yes; but that work of theirs, if it once were stamped with\nthis seal of patient submissiveness, would be a glory to the Church\nfor ever, like the work of her quiet confessors, the work of a\nScupoli, a Ken, or a F\u00e9nelon; instead of being, as it more often seems\nto be, a great offending and perplexing of thousands of the very\nconsciences which deserve to be treated most tenderly, and therefore\nalso a wrong and a loss to the conscience and character of the writer.\n\nAre statements like these a concession to the antidogmatist? If so,\nthey are one to which, in the name of truth, he is heartily welcome.\nAnd perhaps, under the same high sanction we may add what will look,\nto some minds, like another. We claimed some time since that the Creed\nmust be, to Christians, rather a complete and conclusive than a\npartial or a tentative statement of truth. Yet there is one sense in\nwhich we may own that even the definitions of the Creeds may\nthemselves be called relative and temporary. For we must not claim for\nphrases of earthly coinage a more than earthly and relative\ncompleteness. The Creeds are temporary, in that they are a complete\nand sufficient statement of truth only for time. And therefore they\nare only quite perfectly adequate to express those truths which have\ntheir place in time. But we, in respect of truths which transcend\ntime, if we cannot as yet be freed from the trammels and limits of\nearthly thought and expression, yet can recognise at least the fact,\nthat we are, even in our Creeds, still labouring within those\ntrammels. We may have ground for believing the Creeds of the Church to\nbe the most perfectly balanced and harmonious expression of the truth\nwhereof our earthly knowledge is, or will be, capable. Yet when we\nstruggle, as in the language of the Athanasian Creed, to express the\nrelations which have been exhibited to us in the eternal Godhead\nthrough the use of the words 'Person' and 'Substance,' or \u1f51\u03c0\u03cc\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03c2\nand \u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u03b1; or when we thus profess our belief in the Person of the\nHoly Ghost, 'The Holy Ghost is of the Father and of the Son: neither\nmade, nor created, nor begotten, but proceeding,' need we fear to own\nthat the instruments which, perforce, we make use of upon earth, even\nin the Creeds of the Church, are necessarily imperfect instruments;\nthe power of conception imperfect; the power of phrase and imagery\nimperfect also; and that their sufficiency of truth (though not their\ncorrectness meanwhile) is so far temporary that it is limited to earth\nand to time; and that, in the perfect light and knowledge of the\npresence of God, the perfectest knowledge represented by them will be\nsuperseded and absorbed, while the glosses and materialisms with\nwhich, in various ways, we may have been unconsciously clothing them\nto our own imaginations, will be--not superseded only but corrected,\nand, it may be, reproved? Moreover, if the truths represented in the\nCreeds are wider and deeper than our conceptions of them, we can admit\nthat there may possibly be particulars in which, even now, the\nexperience of spiritual life may deepen and enlarge the meaning, to\nus, of our Creeds; as, for instance, the words heaven and hell may\npresent to us ideas differing, in the direction of more correctness,\nfrom those which they presented to some of our forefathers. It is not\nthat the Creeds will be some day corrected. It is not that we shall\nsee hereafter how false they were, but how far the best conceptions\nwhich they opened to us,--the best, that is, that our earthly\nfaculties were capable of, lagged in their clumsiness behind the\nperfect apprehension of the truths which they had, nevertheless, not\nuntruly represented; but which we then shall have power to see and\nknow as they are. The truth which is dimly imaged for us in the\nCreeds, will never belie, but will infinitely transcend, what their\nwords represented on earth.\n\nBut it will very naturally be asked by what right we speak thus of the\nCreeds. In the very moment of admitting, in one sense, their\nincompleteness and want of finality, by what right do we lay down\nstill that they are final and complete to the end of time; that is,\nperhaps, through ages of human advance, of which we may have now no\nconception at all? Such a question does not apply to the strictly\nhistorical statements which constitute the foundation of our creed,\nbut to those interpretations of historical fact, and to those\nassertions about the Divine Being and its relations, which necessarily\ntranscend time and experience. And after all, perhaps, the answer is\nnot difficult. We have to consider, first, that for the very reason\nthat these beliefs do absolutely transcend time and experience,\ntherefore no human development which belongs merely to time and\nexperience, can, in itself, displace or improve upon them; and\nsecondly, that our knowledge of these truths is really derived from a\nDivine revelation, which took place, as we believe, within time and\nexperience. We may say, indeed, that the statements of this Divine\nrevelation are corroborated to us, by such elements of thought as our\nreason (which we believe to be also in its reality Divine) is able to\nsupply. It remains, however, that they can only really be proved or\ndisproved, by arguments which go to prove or disprove the truth of the\nhistorical Incarnation, and of the revelations which it contains.\n\nIt follows from hence that we have a valid right to hold them not only\ntrue, but final in their statement of truth for this present world,\nexactly so far as we have a right to believe that our historical\nrevelation is, for time, a final one. Should there, indeed, be a\nwholly fresh revelation, the amount of truth hitherto revealed might\nbe superseded; but nothing short of a revelation can supersede it. The\nidea that any advance of human reason could be inconsistent with it,\ninvolves for the Christian who believes human reason to be divinely\nreflected and divinely implanted, nothing less than an unthinkable\ncontradiction. We may therefore believe it in any case to be final,\ntill the coming of a further revelation: and so far as there is\nanything in the truth already revealed to us, which may warrant us in\nfeeling confident that there is no fresh revelation in store, within\nthe limits of time, by which the revelation of Jesus Christ will be\nsuperseded, just so far and no further are we justified in claiming\nfor those clauses in the Creed, whose subject-matter transcends time\nand experience, that they are the completest expressions of their\ntruths which can be reached in time.\n\n\nIV. It may, perhaps, be a matter of prudence to refer for a moment to\nwhat are called the 'damnatory clauses' of the Athanasian Creed;\nthough it would not be necessary to do so for the purpose of any\npositive statement or explanation of Christian doctrine. These\nclauses, however, to the positive statement add a negative. It is easy\nto misunderstand them, and even, by misrepresenting, to make them\nappear grotesque. But if the question be as to what they really mean,\nthey are, after all, to the Christian, an obvious and necessary\ncorollary of the Creed which is his life. There is but One God, and\nOne Heaven, and One Salvation; not a choice of alternative salvations,\nor heavens, or gods. There is One Incarnation, One Cross, One Divine\nrestoring and exalting of humanity. There is One Spirit of God, One\nChurch--the fabric and the method of the working of the Spirit,--One\nSpiritual Covenant with man. Man must have part in this One, or he has\npart in none; for there is no other. Man must have knowledge of this\nOne, belief in this One; or there is none for him to believe in or to\nknow. God's covenant is with His Church on earth; and the statements\nof the Creed are the representation in words of that knowledge of the\ntruth which the Church possesses, the possession of which is her life.\nThe Athanasian Creed is not addressed to outsiders, but to those who\nare within the Church. For encouragement, or (if necessary) for\nwarning, it insists to them on the uniqueness of their faith. To have\nhold on God is to have hold on Life. To revolt from God is to revolt\nfrom Life. This is so, to those who have or ought to have learnt that\nit is so, both in fact and in thought. Thus, in fact, to drop out of\ncommunion with the Incarnation of Christ, is to drop out of communion\nwith the inner realities and possibilities of humanity. But the mind,\nand its convictions and meanings, cannot wholly be separated from the\nfacts of the life. There comes, at least in most lives, a time when\nthe man's own allegiance to the facts is a necessary condition of his\nidentification with them. 'If ye believe not that I am He, ye shall\ndie in your sins.' There comes a point at which the mind's refusal of\nthe doctrines of religion is the man's revolt from the facts; and\n_such_ a revolt is repudiation of the One revelation of God, the One\nIncarnation, the One Salvation, the One Church or Covenant. This must\nbe broadly true, true in the abstract, as principle, unless truth and\nfalsehood, right and wrong, are fundamentally false distinctions, and\nevery man is to be equally good, and equally compelled to heaven. At\nwhat point any individual person, or class of persons, does, or does\nnot, in the sight of the Judge who knows the whole inward history, and\ntries the most secret motive, fall within the scope of this principle,\nand incur the final condemnation of rebellion against the one light\nand hope of all humanity, is another question altogether. Any such\napplication of the principle to the case of individuals belongs only\nto God the Judge, and would be an arrogant impiety in any man. Even\nwhen such a question may have to be determined ecclesiastically, the\necclesiastical condemnation and sentence, though expressly\nrepresenting in shadow the eternal sentence, is none the less quite\ndistinct, and indeed in its ultimate motive even contrasted with it.\nBut however unchristian it may be to say that A or B will perish\neverlastingly, the principle nevertheless is true, that the truth\nwhich the Creed embodies, the truth of which Christ's Incarnation is\nthe pivot and centre, is _the only_ deliverance from everlasting\nperishing; and that whole-hearted union and communion with this truth,\nis that true state of Church life which alone has the certain seal of\nthe covenant of God. This broad truth it is, the necessary complement\nof any holding of the Christian creed as true, which these clauses\naffirm. If it be said, 'your Athanasian Creed is simple and trenchant;\nit has no qualifications such as you admit'; our reply would be\nthreefold. First, the Creed is part of our heritage from the past, and\nits phraseology is not our handiwork; but we know that the necessary\nqualifications with which we understand its phraseology have been\ngenerally recognised by the Church from which we inherit it. Secondly,\nthe _Quicunque vult_ is, strictly, not so much a creed as a canticle;\nit has never been used as a test of Church communion; and it speaks,\non a point like this, as the _Te Deum_ would speak, in the language\nnot of judicial award but of devotional loyalty. Thirdly, the\nqualifications with which we say that any generalisation about man's\nresponsibility for belief, whether in this 'canticle' or in scripture,\nmust necessarily be understood, are only such as all men apply to any\nsimilar generalisation about responsibility for conduct. 'If ye\nbelieve not that I am He, ye shall die in your sins,' is paralleled by\n'They which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God.' We\nclaim only to interpret the one as rationally as all men understand\nthe other.\n\nIt has seemed to be desirable, while insisting upon the claims of\ndogma, not indeed in the name of allegiance to imposed authority, but\nin the name of truth, and on the ground of its simple identity with\ntruth, to try to state, with the utmost possible plainness, whatever\ncould be truly admitted in the way of apparent qualification of those\nclaims. Truth is supreme, and eternal; and dogma, so far as it\ncoincides with truth, is, of course, all that truth is. For the\ndogmatic position of the Church and her Creeds, we claim that it is\nthe true and simple expression upon earth of the highest truth that\nis, or can be, known. But dogmatic theologians are not infallible, and\nso far as the name of dogma has been claimed for mistaken presumption\nor misleading statement of truth, so far may dogma have seemed to\nfight against truth. The words, indeed, 'dogmatic' and 'dogmatism'\nhave acquired a bad reputation. But this is not the fault of dogma. A\ndogmatist, in the invidious sense of the word, does not mean one who\nstudies dogma, but rather one who foolishly utters what are not dogmas\nas if they were. The dogmatic temper is the temper of one who is\nimperiously confident that he is right when he is not. That is to say,\nthe words dogma, dogmatic, dogmatize, etc., are commonly used of\nsomething which is the mere abuse and travesty of their proper\nmeaning. It is hard that dogma itself should be prejudiced by this\ncaricaturing misuse of its name.\n\nMeanwhile, if real charges be brought against any part of our dogmatic\ncreed, we are willing most honestly to examine into them. In so far as\nthey are made against current suppositions, which are separable from\nour essential belief,--separable as, for example, we now see various\ndetails of traditional belief about the first chapter of Genesis to be\nseparable--we join our critics in the examination with a mind as open\nas they could desire. And it must, in simple candour, be admitted\nfurther, that upon the appearance of any new form of thought,\nChurchmen have not generally been quick of mind to discriminate the\nessential from the non-essential, so as to receive at first, with any\nopenness of mind, what they had afterwards to admit that they might\nhave received from the first. But not even this admission must prevent\nus from claiming, that when that to which exception is taken does\nreally belong to the essential truths of our creed, which to us are\nmore absolutely established certainties than anything in heaven and\nearth besides, they must pardon us if, while we are still willing to\ngive the most candid hearing possible to everything that they have to\nurge, we yet cannot, if we would, divest ourselves of the deepest\ncertainties of our existence;--cannot therefore pretend to argue with\nmore openness of mind than would scientific professors--say with a\nchampion who undertook to prove that the globe was flat, or that the\nsun went round the earth. We are ready to listen to everything. We are\nfully prepared to find that the champion may produce in evidence some\nphenomena which we shall be unable to account for. We have found it\nbefore; we are not unaccustomed to finding it (though, in good time,\nthe perplexity always unravels itself); and we shall be in no way\ndisconcerted if we find it again. But we cannot pretend meanwhile to\nhold all the truth which our consciences have known in suspense.\n\n\nV. What was said just now about the Creeds will not, it is hoped,\nappear to any minds to fail in the entire respect which is due to\nthem. Yet it makes it, perhaps, the more incumbent upon us to take\nnotice of another form of attack upon dogma, which connects itself\nwith an attitude about the Creeds, such as may seem at first sight to\nbe not wholly dissimilar; though presently all the foundations of\ndogma are dissolved by it. But in point of fact, if we admit that what\nthe Creeds mean on earth, is less than what the same truths will mean\nin heaven, or that there may be, even here, a clumsier, and a\ncompleter, understanding of them; this is a position essentially\ndifferent from maintaining that what the Creeds both say and mean, is\nnot only less than, but (if strictly taken) inconsistent with, the\nreal truth; and that not in any transcendent sense, as celestial\nbeings, with wholly other faculties, may conceivably have power of\napprehending it in heaven, but as the more intelligent among us may,\nand do, see it now. This is not only to admit that the Creeds are\nbuilt up, perforce, of materials which belong to this earth; but to\ntreat them as mere serviceable fictions for the teaching of the\nuncivilized or the young. The deliberate unbeliever, indeed, assumes\nthat the Creeds mean what they say, and that the Church understands\nthe Creeds. Assuming this, he parts company with the Church, because\nhe holds that the statements of her Creeds are, in fact, fictitious.\nBut it may surprise us to find that there is another form of this view\nof the fictitiousness of Creeds, and that here the critic speaks, not\nat all in the character of an unbeliever, but rather in that of an\nenlightened Churchman. All Christian truth, he says, is true. Even the\nCreeds in a real sense represent the truth. But the Church's\nunderstanding and expression of Christian truth in the Creeds, is,\nnone the less, strictly, a misrepresentation of the truth. Though the\ntruth of Christ lies behind the Church's Creeds, yet they have so\noverlaid, and thereby, in strict speech, misstated it, that it is only\nthe patience of criticism, which cutting bravely adrift from the\nauthority of traditional interpretation, has succeeded in\ndiscriminating between the Creeds and the meaning of the Creeds, and\nbehind what are practically the fictions of dogmatic Christianity, has\nre-discovered the germs of Christian truth. Neither the facts of the\nlife of Jesus Christ, nor His teaching, nor His consciousness in\nregard of Himself, were as we have been taught, but were something\ndifferent. He never thought nor taught of Himself as personally God,\nnor did He perform any miracles, nor did He rise on the third day from\nthe dead. Whatever scriptures state these things explicitly, are\nproved by that very fact to be glosses or errors. And yet, all the\nwhile, everything is true spiritually. The record of the Incarnate\nLife is true literally, it may be, at comparatively few points;\ncertainly not the story of the Birth; certainly not the story of the\nResurrection; certainly not any incident which involves, or any\nexpression which implies, miracle. But the Birth, the Resurrection,\nthe miracles, every one of them, represent, in the most splendid of\nimaginative language and portraiture, essential spiritual truths. They\nare fictions, but vivid representations, in fiction, of fact; splendid\ntruths, therefore, so long as they are understood to be literally\nfictitious, but perversions of truth, if taken for truth of fact.\n\nIt is this conception which was set forth not long ago with a singular\npower and persuasiveness by the author of _The Kernel and the Husk_.\nThe lofty level of thought, the restraint and felicity of language,\nabove all the deeply religious spirit of the author, invest his\narguments with a charm of unusual attractiveness. The arguments are\nnot such as it is wholly pleasant to see thus recommended. He deals in\ndetail, in the course of the volume, with much of the narrative of\nScripture, with the purpose of shewing how one by one the various\nrecords, including of course the Birth and Resurrection, have grown to\ntheir present form out of realities which contained no miracle, and\nwhich therefore differed essentially from the historical scriptures\nand faith of the Church.\n\nIt is no part of our task to enter upon such details. Nor is it\nnecessary. The struggle against such a theory of Christianity will not\nbe fought out on details. It may be conceded that many of the\nmiracles, taken singly, can easily be made to fall in with conjectural\ntheories as to a mythical origin, _if only the antecedent conviction_\nagainst their reality as miracles _be cogent enough_ really to require\nthat the necessary force should be put upon the evidence. Some indeed\nmay lend themselves to the process with a facility which fairly\nsurprises us. Others seem still to be very obstinate, and force the\nrationalizer into strange hypotheses. But after all, the real\nquestion, through one and all, is not how easily this or that miracle\ncan be made, by squeezing of evidence, to square with a rationalizing\nhypothesis; but what is the strength of the argument for the\nrationalizing hypothesis itself, which is the warrant for squeezing\nthe evidence at all.\n\nThe Evangelists say that Jesus taught in the synagogue at Capernaum.\nOur author takes for granted that He did so. The Evangelists say that\nJesus miraculously multiplied loaves and fishes in the wilderness. Our\nauthor takes for granted that He did not so. Now why this contrast?\nIncidentally, indeed, it may be remarked that on the author's own\ngeneral method, this multiplication of loaves ought to be one of the\nmost certain facts in the life of Christ, as it is emphasized in every\nGospel. But this is by the way. The real ground of the contrast in the\ntreatment of the same evidence is a certain prior conviction with\nwhich the evidence is approached. Now we are not contending that any\nsuch sifting of evidence in the light of prior tests is inadmissible.\nOn the contrary, there is hardly anyone who does not, on a similar\nprinciple, explain the differences (for example) in the accounts of\nthe title upon the Cross, or the difficulty as to whether Jesus healed\none blind man or two, on the way into, or out from, Jericho; but we do\nsay that the admissibleness of such a method of interpreting\nabsolutely depends upon the certainty of the correctness of the prior\nconviction itself.\n\nThe various details of ingenuity, then, with which he explains away\nparticular incidents, are to us of quite subordinate interest.\nEverything depends upon the cogency of the grounds for explaining away\nat all. A large part of the book is occupied in explaining away the\nfacts of Christianity, as the Christian Church has hitherto understood\nthem; an explaining away which may be more or less necessary, more or\nless satisfactory, if the premisses which require it are once\nadmitted; but which certainly is wholly unnecessary, and wholly\nunsatisfactory, if those premisses are denied.\n\nThe prior conviction in the book in question is that miracles neither\ndo, nor did, happen in fact, and therefore that any narrative which\ninvolves them is incredible. All the ingenuities of conjecture on\nindividual points become relevant subsequently to, and in reliance\nupon, this underlying principle. Admit this, and they are forthwith\ninteresting and valuable. Deny this, and they lose their importance at\nonce. It is the pressure of this prior conviction which seems to give\nlife and force to a number of suggestions, about other stories, and\nparticularly about that of the Resurrection, which, apart from this\nanimating conviction, would be felt to be very lifeless; and to a\ntotal experiment of subjective reconstruction, which, but for the\nstrength of the antecedent conviction, would have been impossible to\nmen of reverent thought and modest utterance. The teaching of the book\nwill therefore really be accepted or the reverse, precisely according\nas the minds of its readers do, or do not, incline to admit the\nhypothesis upon which it depends.\n\nIt is probable, indeed, that the author would demur to this statement,\nat least when put so simply; on the ground that, though he avows the\nconviction, yet he has reached the conviction itself by no _\u00e0 priori_\nroad, but as the result of wide observation and unprejudiced scrutiny\nof evidence. Now it is not at all meant to be asserted that the\nconviction against miracle is itself reached merely by an _\u00e0 priori_\nmethod. No doubt it has, in fact, been arrived at, in those minds\nwhich have fully arrived at it, not _\u00e0 priori_, but as the result of a\ngreat induction from experience; practically indeed, as it seems to\nthem, from experience as good as universal. The weight of the evidence\nin this direction is neither denied nor forgotten. Yet even when it\nmost impresses us, of course it is obvious still to reply to ourselves\nthat however powerful this array of experience may appear so long as\nthere are no instances to the contrary, yet any one contrary instance\nwill break at once the cogency of the induction. The case of Jesus\nChrist is put forward as being unique. Its uniqueness is not really\nqualified by the fact that some others, among those nearest to\nHimself, were by Him enabled--avowedly in _His_ power, not their\nown,--to do acts which were impossible to other men. This is only a\nwider extension of His unique power, not a qualification of it.\nAgainst such a case, put forward on evidence definite and multiform,\nand put forward as essentially unique, an argument from induction is\nno argument at all. It is a misnomer to call the induction an\nargument. The induction, in fact, is merely an observation that other\npersons did not perform similar miracles; and that, if Jesus Christ\ndid so, He was unique. But this is no answer to the Christian\nposition. It is part of the position itself.\n\nAnd so the matter must be referred for settlement to the evidence that\nis actually forthcoming about Jesus Christ. But it is plain that the\ninductive presumption against miracle, derived from experience of\nother men, must not come in to warp or rule this evidence. It may be\npresent indeed as a sort of cross-examining counsel, as a\nconsideration requiring that the evidence should be most minutely\nscrutinized, and suggesting all sorts of questions with a view to\nthis. But into the evidence itself, it cannot be permitted to intrude.\n\nNow, it is part of our complaint against such writers as the author of\n_The Kernel and the Husk_, that however much their general presumption\nagainst miracle may have been inductively and patiently reached; yet\nwhen they come to deal with the evidence about Jesus Christ, this\nconviction (which ought to stand on one side inquiringly) becomes to\nthem an underlying postulate; it is settled beforehand; it is present\nwith them in their exegesis, not simply as a motive for sifting the\nevidence carefully, but as a touchstone of truth by which it may all\nbe tried. Probably the author would believe that he has reached his\nconviction against the miracles of Jesus of Nazareth, not merely from\na general induction as to the absence of miracle in the lives of\nothers, but also from an unprejudiced scrutiny of the evidence of the\nlife of Jesus Christ Himself. But this is just what we are not at all\nprepared to concede. On the contrary, we maintain that his scrutiny is\nwholly prejudiced. Examine the evidence with a bias sufficiently\npowerful against belief in miracle; and you may end in the result\nwhich this author reaches. Examine it without such a bias; and you\nwill find yourself at every turn protesting against his mode of\ntreating the evidence. It is a scrutiny of the evidence _on the basis\nof the inadmissibleness of miracles_, which gives him that coherent\ntheory about the growth of the Christian tradition, and those\nconsequent principles of interpretation of the text of the Gospels,\nwhich he appears to regard as the simple result of the evidence\nitself.\n\nWe shall very likely be surprised to find that, after all, the\nabstract impossibility of miracle is not laid down,--nay, is expressly\ndisclaimed,--by him. Miracle (if we rightly understand) is not\nimpossible absolutely,--not even, he adds, _\u00e0 priori_ improbable; yet\nit is _equivalent to_ an impossibility, because the will of the Father\nindwelt wholly in Jesus, and because the perfect uniformity of natural\nprocesses as we have experienced them, is, _in fact_, and with no\nexceptions, the will of the Father[215]. No general reflections upon\nour dependence, in ordinary life, on the good faith of an uniform\nnature, ought to blind us to the fact that this last position neither\nhas, nor can have, any adequate ground at all. It is surprising that\nwith so weak a statement of the impossibility of miracle, the\nprinciple of the impossibility of miracle should have to bear the\nextraordinary weight that is put upon it. Nothing short of a\ndemonstration of this impossibility would fully justify the critical\nposition that is adopted. For it is, in fact, upon this impossibility\nthat the whole re-reading of the history is based.\n\nIt is probably true that if once the hypothesis of the impossibility\nof miracle be accepted as practically certain, an earnest mind,\npenetrated with this as its overruling principle, and dwelling upon\nthe Gospels always and only in the light of this, will be compelled\ngradually to re-read in one place and re-interpret in another, until\nthe whole has been, by steps that upon the hypothesis were\nirresistible, metamorphosed into a form as unlike as possible, indeed,\nto what it wore at first, but still one which can be felt to be\nprecious and beautiful. But we are entitled to point out how\nabsolutely this re-reading of the evidence depends upon the truth of\nthe principle which underlies it. For the sake of this, all sorts of\nviolence has to be done to what would otherwise be, in one incident\nafter another, the obvious meaning of words, the obvious outcome of\nevidence. Without the certainty of this, the new method of reading\nmust be critically condemned as baseless and arbitrary. This alone\nmakes it rationally possible. Without the strong cogency of this it\nfalls instantly to pieces.\n\nNow orthodox Christians are sometimes accused of reading their\nhistorical evidence in the light of a preconception. They begin with\nthe doctrine of the Creed, and read all records of fact with the\nconviction of that doctrine in their hearts and consciences. We need\nnot be altogether concerned to combat this statement. Perhaps few\nrecords are read, or would ever be read intelligently, except in the\nlight of the reader's preconceptions. But our point is to see clearly\nthat at all events the new reading of the Gospel history is itself so\nentirely the outcome and creature of its antecedent principle, that it\ncannot without that hold together for an instant.\n\nLet us be content, for the moment, to view the orthodox Christian and\nthe new rationalist as both alike really reading the Gospel narrative\nin the light of a preconceived principle; the one viewing everything\non the basis of the perfect Divinity of the historical Jesus Christ\n(with the corollary that it is impossible for us to determine _\u00e0\npriori_ what power His perfect Humanity--for which we have no\nprecedent--would, or would not, naturally and necessarily exhibit);\nthe other viewing everything on the basis of the absolute\nimpossibility, or at least the incredibleness, of miracle. We might\npoint out that the former in his hypothesis has a principle which\nabsolutely fits and perfectly accounts for every part of the evidence\nwhich confronts him; while the latter is compelled, by the cogency of\nhis principle, to reconstruct for himself almost every chapter of the\nevidence. And if we go one step further back, and ask, what is the\nantecedent reasonableness of the one hypothesis, or of the other? from\nwhat source is each derived? We must claim it as simple fact, that the\nformer hypothesis is itself the direct outcome of the evidence,--the\ninevitable outcome, indeed, so long as the evidence stands: while the\nother is at bottom, an assumption, held absolutely in the teeth of the\nevidence actually existing in respect of the life and consciousness of\nJesus of Nazareth, and itself on other grounds not merely unproved,\nbut essentially incapable of proof[216].\n\nBut if our hypothesis is itself the outcome of the evidence, and fits\nwith perfect exactness into all its intricacies, then we yield far too\nmuch if we treat it as on the level of a mere preconception. To\npersist in reading the New Testament by the light of the preconception\nof the dogma of Christ's Godhead (with the corollary that no miracle\nis incredible as miracle), is to be prejudiced only in the same sense\nin which the scientist is prejudiced who persists in studying the\nrecords of astronomy in the light of certain preconceptions as to the\nparabola or the law of gravitation.\n\nBut what is the case with the other hypothesis? By it the historical\nJesus Christ is swept away; and another personality, which does not\nexist in the history at all, but which the history has suggested to\ncertain earnest-minded critics of our own day, is substituted in His\nplace. All those who witnessed of His words and deeds to the Church,\nall those whose witness the Church has accepted and sealed, are\nthoroughly mistaken, mistaken in the very points which to them were\nfundamental. However honest they may have been in their superstitious\nignorance, they certainly bore to the world what was, in fact, false\ntestimony. It is impressive, with a strange impressiveness, to follow\nthis hypothesis through the story of Christ's life; and see with what\ningenuity, often plausible, often pathetic, the old facts are\nrefashioned to meet the new principle.\n\nCardinal, of course, in difficulty as in importance, is the narrative\nof the Resurrection; that plain statement of fact, to testify whereto\nwas the primary qualification, and primary function, of Apostleship;\nand which, from S.\u00a0Peter and S.\u00a0Paul downwards, has always been\nrecognised as cardinal to the faith of the Church.\n\nNow given; first, the certain conviction that no miracle occurred; and\nsecondly, a working hypothesis as to the growth of the Christian\nScriptures, which not only enables, but requires, you to set aside, on\ngrounds of subjective criticism, all such evidence as seems to you to\nbe improbable; and it follows that, if you are still of a very\nreligious mind, you will probably have to take refuge in what may yet\nbe to you the beautiful story of a Resurrection exclusively spiritual.\n\nYou must, of course, deal very violently with the direct evidence. But\nthat is already covered by the general theory you have reached as to\nthe historical genesis and value (or lack of value) of the books of\nthe New Testament. And, of course, in adopting such a view of the\nbooks of the New Testament, you are reducing to a phantasm the reality\nof your belief in the Holy Catholic Church, which has enshrined and\nconsecrated, as perfectest truth, what are really at best only\nfables,--capable, indeed, of clumsily representing the truth to the\nchildish or the stupid, but beginning to be absolutely pernicious to\nminds which have reached a certain point of intelligent education.\n\nTolerating these things, however, you may admit the truth of the\nResurrection (as you may admit every proposition of the Creed) in\nwords; only in a sense so refined, so exclusively spiritual, that no\nbodily reality of resurrection is left. There is no resurrection in\nyour creed correlative to the dying. There is no resurrection more, or\nmore demonstrable, than what we believe to be true of men in general.\nThere is no resurrection which enters within the ordinary sphere of\nhuman history, or admits any direct contact with the normal methods of\nhuman evidence or human proof. The question raised is not whether\ncurrent imaginations of the Resurrection may possibly be more or less\nexaggerated in the way of materialism, but whether there was any\ncorporeal reality of resurrection at all. And the question is settled\nin the negative. The foundation fact of the Creed is etherealized\naway; and all the rest, with it, becomes together impalpable and\nsubjective.\n\nWe do not say that there is not a large element which is true, in the\nthought of such a writer as we have been considering. Where the mind\nis so devoutly in earnest, it is no hard task to believe that it too\nmust be animated originally by truth. We need not say, therefore, that\nthe work of this earnestness may not serve us all, and contribute to\nthe thought of us all. It may well be true that in our bald\nunderstanding of the doctrine of the Resurrection,--or indeed of the\nwhole Incarnation, from beginning to end,--we have, many of us, too\nlittle imagined the scope and depth of its spiritual import. If our\northodoxy has been so well content with insisting mechanically upon\nthe literal fact, as not only to forget, but to disdain or disown in\nany measure, the vast spiritual realities which it ought to express to\nus; then our stupidity, or narrowness, in orthodoxy, is in part to\nblame, for the distaste which they have created towards orthodoxy in\nsome natures more sensitive than our own. In so far as they can, in\nthis respect, return good for evil, we will not be slow to acknowledge\nour debt to them. We will be grateful for any new suggestion they can\ndiscover, as to the moral beauty or import of the Resurrection, or of\nthe Incarnation, or of any or every other miracle considered upon its\nmoral side as allegory. Some ways at least there may be, in which\ntheir insistance may tend to deepen for us our understanding of\ntruths, whose more spiritual aspects we had dwelt upon perhaps, in\nsome cases,--perhaps had even imagined,--far too little. But doubtless\nthat true element of their work, which the mind of the Catholic Church\nwill assimilate, will be greatly modified from the form in which it\nnow presents itself--to them as to others. It will, to say the least,\nbe positive rather than negative; stimulating spiritual sensibilities,\nbut not by explaining away the facts of the body; widening (it may be)\nour insight into the divineness of history, and the depth of the\nmeaning of certain events which happened in it,--but not shattering\nboth it and them, by dissolving their historical truth.\n\nMeanwhile of the one-sided aspect we can but say that no doubt\ntranscendental spiritualism has a great attractiveness. The Magian\naspiration always was fascinating. Individuals, indeed, of\nenthusiastic sympathies, trained themselves in dogmatic truth, and\nindulging their freest speculations always on a background of\ninveterate dogmatic instinct, may fancy the 'spiritualized\nChristianity' to be in itself a stable and a living completeness; but\nas a system, it will neither produce life nor perpetuate it. It is an\nattempt to improve upon the Church of Christ, upon the conditions of\nhuman nature, upon the facts of history. The Church of Christ is not\nso. The Church of Christ does not ignore the fundamental conditions of\nhuman experience. The Church of Christ is balanced, harmonious,\nall-embracing, all-adjusting. The Incarnation was the sanctifying of\nboth parts of human nature, not the abolition of either. The Church,\nthe Sacraments, human nature, Jesus Christ Himself, all are twofold;\nall are earthly objective, as well as transcendental spiritual. And so\nlong as this world is real as well as the next; so long as man is body\nas well as soul; so long all attempts to evaporate the body and its\nrealities are foredoomed to a necessary and a salutary failure. The\nreligion, which attempts to be rid of the bodily side of things\nspiritual, sooner or later loses hold of all reality. Pure\nspiritualism, however noble the aspiration, however living the energy\nwith which it starts, always has ended at last, and will always end,\nin evanescence.\n\n[215] See especially the concluding paragraphs of letter xix.\n\n[216] 'The question of miracles seems now to be admitted on all hands\nto be simply a question of evidence.' These are the words as much of\nProfessor Huxley as of the Duke of Argyll. _Nineteenth Century_, April\n1887, p. 483: cp. Feb. 1887, pp. 201, etc.\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\n_THE ATONEMENT._\n\nARTHUR LYTTELTON.\n\n\nI. Theological doctrine, describing, as it professes to do, the\ndealings of an all-wise Person with the human race, must be a\nconsistent whole, each part of which reflects the oneness of the will\non which it is based. What we call particular doctrines are in reality\nonly various applications to various human conditions of one great\nuniform method of Divine government, which is the expression in human\naffairs of one Divine will. The theological statement of any part of\nthis method ought to bear on its face the marks of the whole from\nwhich it is temporarily separated; for though it may be necessary to\nmake now this, now that doctrine prominent, to isolate it and lay\nstress on it, this should be done in such a way that in each special\ntruth the whole should, in a manner, be contained. We must be able to\ntrace out in each the lines of the Divine action which is only fully\ndisplayed in the whole. Neglect of this not only makes our faith as a\nwhole weak and incoherent, but deprives the doctrines themselves of\nthe illumination and strength which are afforded by the discovery in\nthem of mutual likeness and harmony. They become first unintelligible\nand then inconceivable, and the revelation of the character of God,\nwhich should be perceived in every part of His dealings with men,\nbecomes confused and dim to us. This has been especially the case with\nthe Atonement. In the course of religious controversy this doctrine\nhas become separated from the rest, at one time neglected, at another\nover emphasized, till in its isolation it has been so stated as to be\nalmost incredible. Men could not indeed be brought to disbelieve in\nforgiveness, however attained, and the conviction of remission of sins\nthrough and in the Blood of Christ has survived all the theories which\nhave been framed to account for it; but nevertheless, the unreality of\nthese theories has been a disaster to the Christian faith. Some of\nthem have strained our belief in the moral attributes of God, others\nhave given men easy thoughts of sin and its consequences. This has\nbeen so because they have treated the Atonement apart from the whole\nbody of facts which make up the Christian conception of God and His\ndealings with men. In this essay the attempt will be made to present\nthe doctrine in its relation to the other great Christian truths: to\nthe doctrines, that is, of God, of the Incarnation, of sin.\n\n(1) On the human side the fact with which we have to deal is the fact\nof sin. Of this conception the Bible, the most complete record of the\nreligious history of man, is full from the first page to the last.\nThroughout the whole course of Jewish development, the idea that man\nhas offended the justice of God was one of the abiding elements in the\nreligious consciousness of the race. But it was by no means confined\nto the Jews. They have been truly called the conservators of the idea\nof sin; but it has never been permanently absent, in some form or\nother, from the human mind, although we learn most about it, and can\nsee it in its clearest, most intense form, in the Hebrew religion. Now\nthis conception of sin in its effect on the human soul is of a twofold\ncharacter. Sin is felt to be alienation from God, Who is the source of\nlife, and strength, and peace, and in consequence of that alienation\nthe whole nature is weakened and corrupted. In this aspect sin is a\nstate in which the will is separated from the Divine will, the life is\ncut off from the life of God which He designed us to share. When men\ncome to realize what is meant by union with God, and to feel the awful\nconsequences of separation, there arises at once the longing for a\nreturn, a reconciliation; but this longing has by itself no power to\neffect so great a change. To pass from alienation to union is to pass\nfrom darkness to light, from evil to good, and can only be\naccomplished by that very power, the power of a life united to God,\nwhich has been forfeited by sin. Only in union with God can man\naccomplish anything that is good; and, therefore, so long as he is\nalienated from God, he can only long for, he cannot obtain, his\nreunion with the Divine life. Sin therefore, thus considered, is not\nonly wickedness; it is also misery and hopelessness. Sinners are\n'without God in the world,' and for that reason they 'have no hope.'\n\nThis is the aspect of sin as a state of the sinful soul, and as\naffecting the present relation between man and God. It has destroyed\nthe union, has broken down even the sacrificial bridge, for it has\nmade all acceptable offerings impossible. Man's will is weakened,\ntherefore he has not strength to offer himself completely and\nunreservedly to God; his nature is corrupted and stained, therefore\nhis offering, could he make it, could not be accepted. Sin is a\nhopeless state of weakness and uncleanness. But there is another, in\none sense an earlier, more fundamental aspect of sin. The sins of the\npast have produced not merely weakness and corruption, but also guilt.\nThe sinner feels himself guilty before God. If we examine the idea of\nguilt, as realized by the conscience, it will be seen to contain the\nbelief in an external power, or law, or person against whom the\noffence has been committed, and also an internal feeling, the\nacknowledgment of ill-desert, a sense of being under sentence, and\nthat justly. Whether the punishment which is felt to be the due reward\nof the offence has been borne or not, the conception of punishment,\nwhen the offence has been committed, cannot be avoided, and it brings\nwith it a conviction of its justice. These two elements, the external\nand the internal element, seem to be necessary to the full conception\nof guilt. The common fallacy that a self-indulgent sinner is no one's\nenemy but his own would, were it true, involve the further inference\nthat such a sinner would not feel himself guilty. But it is precisely\nbecause the consciousness of sin does not and cannot stop here that,\nover and above any injury to self, any weakness or even corruption\nproduced by sin, we speak of its guilt. 'Against Thee, Thee only, have\nI sinned, and done that which is evil in Thy sight.' This belief in an\nexternal power, whose condemnation has been incurred by sin, may take\nvarious forms; for the power may be represented as impersonal or as\npersonal, as law or as God. For our present purposes, however, the\ndistinction is immaterial: the essential point is that it is something\nexternal to ourselves, not merely the echo of the sinner's own\nself-inflicted pain and injury. We cannot, however, limit it to this.\nFor it is not merely an external power, it is also a just power that\nis presented to the sense of guilt. Before bare power, unrighteous or\nnon-moral, an offender may be compelled to submit, but he will not\nfeel guilt. The state of mind expressed by Mill's well-known defiance\nis his who has offended a superior power which he cannot believe to be\njust, and it is very far removed from the feeling of guiltiness[217].\nThe sense of guilt implies the righteousness as well as the power of\nthat against which we have offended; it is a moral conviction.\nGuiltiness, then, regarded in one aspect is the sense of sin, in\nanother it is the recognition of the law of righteousness, or, if we\nmay now assume the religious point of view, it is the conviction of\nthe wrath of God against sin.\n\nIt is plain, if we will only scrutinise closely and candidly the\nconception of sin and guilt, that no merely 'subjective' explanation\nwill account for the facts revealed by our consciousness. Even if we\nhad no scriptural evidence to guide us, the evidence, that is, to take\nit at the lowest, of a series of specially qualified witnesses to\nreligious phenomena, our own hearts would tell us of the wrath of God\nagainst sin. It is irresistibly felt that there is a Power hostile to\nsin, and that this Power has decreed a righteous punishment for the\noffences which are the external signs and results of the sinful state.\nWhatever the punishment may be, a question we need not now discuss,\nthe sinner's conscience warns him of it. He may apparently, or for a\ntime, escape it; but it is none the less felt to be the fitting\nexpression of Divine wrath, the righteous manifestation of the\nhostility of God's nature to sin and all its consequences. Guilt,\nthen, like sin, has its twofold character. It is the belief in an\nexternal hostility to sin expressing itself in punishment, and also\nthe conviction that such punishment is righteous and just. Thus, when\nonce God is recognised as the offended Person, the acknowledgment of\nthe righteousness of His judgment follows. 'Against Thee, Thee only,\nhave I sinned, and done that which is evil in Thy sight; that Thou\nmightest be justified when Thou speakest, and be clear when Thou\njudgest.'\n\n(2) Corresponding to the sense of sin in its twofold aspect we find,\nnot only in the Mosaic system or in the scriptural history, but almost\nuniversally established, the system of sacrifice. It is not necessary\nto maintain that sacrifice, in its essential idea, was intended to\nexpress the consciousness of sin. Rather, it seems to be, essentially,\nthe expression of the very opposite of sin, of that relation of man to\nGod which sin destroyed[218]. It is sometimes said that sacrifice is\nthe recognition of God's sovereignty, the tribute paid by His\nsubjects. This is, of course, a necessary element in the conception of\nsacrifice, for God is our King; but it does not satisfy the whole\nconsciousness which man has of his original relation to God. That is a\nrelation, not of subjection only, but of union at least as close as\nthat of sons to a Father, a union whereby we derive life from His\nlife, and render back absolute unquestioning love to Him. Sacrifice\nis, in its highest, original meaning, the outward expression of this\nlove. As human love naturally takes outward form in gifts, and the\ncloser, the more fervent it is, makes those gifts more and more\npersonal, till at last it wholly gives itself; so sacrifice should be\nthe recognition of our union with God, an expression of our love for\nHim, giving Him all that we have and all that we are. Submission,\nreverence, love are the original feelings which sacrifice was intended\nto represent; and it may be called, therefore, the expression of man's\nrelations to God in their purest form, unmarred and unbroken by sin.\nBut this is only the original, ideal meaning, for with the intrusion\nof sin another element appears in sacrifice; and men attempt, by their\nofferings, to expiate their offences, to cover their sins, to wipe out\ntheir guilt, to propitiate Divine wrath. But though this new element\nis introduced, the original intention is not altogether lost. The\nunion has been destroyed by sin, but even in the sin-offerings under\nthe Law there was expressed the endeavour to regain it, to enter once\nmore into living relations with God: while the normal sacrifices of\nthe congregation went beyond this, and represented the exercise of a\nright based on union with God, the presentation of the people before\nHim. Thus we must recognise in the Mosaic sacrifices--the most\ncomplete and typical form of the sacrificial idea--the twofold aspect\nwhich corresponds to the twofold effect of sin on the human race.\nThere is the offering, sometimes the bloodless offering, by which was\ntypified simply man's dependence on God, his submission to Him, his\nlife derived from Him and therefore rendered back to Him. From this\npoint of view the sacrifice culminated, not in the slaying and\noffering of the victim, but in the sprinkling of the blood, the\n'principle of life,' upon the altar. The priestly mediators brought\nthe blood, which 'maketh atonement by reason of the life,' before God,\nand sprinkled it upon the altar, in order that the lost union with God\nin the covenant might be restored, and life once more derived from God\nas it had been offered to Him. The whole system was indeed only\npartial, temporary, external. The Mosaic sacrifices 'sanctified unto\nthe cleanness of the flesh,' they did not 'cleanse the conscience from\ndead works to serve the living God.' So the restoration which the\nspecial sin-offerings accomplished was merely external and temporary,\nthe reunion of the offender with the congregation of Israel from which\nhis fault had separated him. But as this excommunication symbolised\nthe loss, brought about by sin, of life with God, so the reunion with\nthe congregation typified the reunion of the sinner with God. As a\nsystem, then, the Mosaic sacrifices both corresponded to a deep desire\nof the human heart, the desire to recover the lost relation to the\nDivine life, and also by their imperfection pointed forward to a time\nwhen, by means of a more perfect offering, that restoration should be\ncomplete, accomplished once for all, and eternal. This is one aspect\nof the sacrificial system. But before this typical restoration of\nlife, there came the mysterious act which corresponded to the sense of\nguilt. Leaving aside the lesser offerings of the shew-bread and the\nincense, it may be said generally that in every sacrifice the slaying\nof a victim was a necessary element. And there is deep significance in\nthe manner in which the slaying was performed. The hands of the\nofferer laid upon the victim's head denoted, according to the\nunvarying use of the Old Testament, the representative character of\nthe animal offered, and thus the victim was, so to speak, laden with\nthe guilt of him who sought for pardon and reconciliation. The victim\nwas then slain by the offerer himself, and the death thus became an\nacknowledgment of the justice of God's punishments for sin: it was as\nif the offerer declared, 'This representative of my guilt I here, by\nmy own act, doom to death, in satisfaction of the righteous law of\nvengeance against sin, for \"the soul that sinneth it shall die.\"' It\nwas not, therefore, till the sense of personal guilt had been\nexpressed by the act which constituted the victim a representative of\nthe offerer, and by the slaying which typified the need of expiation\nby suffering for sin, that the sacrifice was fit to be presented\nbefore God by the mediation of the priest, and the blood, 'the life\nwhich had willingly passed through death[219],' could be sprinkled as\na token of restored life in God. A careful study of the Mosaic\nsacrifices will shew the twofold character impressed upon them. Both\naspects are necessary, they may even be described as two sides of the\nsame fact. Before God can be approached by a sinner he must expiate\nhis sin by suffering, must perfectly satisfy the demands of the law,\nmust atone for the past which has loaded him with guilt: and then, as\npart of the same series of acts, the life so sacrificed, so purified\nby the expiatory death, is accepted by God, and being restored from\nHim, becomes the symbol and the means of union with Him. Forgiveness\nfor the past, cleansing in the present, hope for the future, are thus\nunited in one great symbolic ceremony.\n\nThe Mosaic system was only external, 'sanctifying unto the cleanness\nof the flesh'; partial, for it provided no expiation for the graver\nmoral transgressions; temporary, for the sacrifices had to be repeated\n'day by day'; provisional, for 'if there was perfection through the\nLevitical priesthood ... what further need was there that another\npriest should arise after the order of Melchizedek?' In spite,\nhowever, of these obvious defects and limitations in the Mosaic\nsystem, there was a constant tendency among the Jews to rest content\nwith it, to rely upon the efficacy of these external sacrifices and\nceremonies for their whole religion, to believe that 'the blood of\nbulls and goats' could 'put away sin,' and that no inner spiritual\nrepentance or renovation was required. And the highest minds of the\nnation, represented by the prophets, were keenly alive to this danger:\ntheir rebukes and remonstrances shew how strongly they felt the\nimperfection of the sacrificial system, how it failed to satisfy the\nreally religious cravings of spiritual minds. Yet there it was,\ndivinely ordained, clearly necessary as the expression of the national\nreligious life, profoundly significant. It could not be dispensed\nwith, yet it could not satisfy: in its incompleteness, as well as in\nits symbolism, it pointed forward, and foreshadowed a perfect\nexpiation.\n\n(3) This examination of the sacrificial system of the Old Testament is\nnecessary in a discussion of the doctrine of the Atonement, for\nseveral reasons. The institutions of the Law were, in the first place,\nordained by God, and therefore intended to reveal in some degree His\npurposes, His mind towards man. We thus find in them traces of the\nfuller revelation which came afterwards, and the two dispensations\nthrow light on each other. Then again, it was from the Law that the\nJews derived their religious language: their conceptions of sacrifice,\nof atonement, of the effects of sin, were moulded by the influence of\nthe Mosaic ceremonies. For this reason the apostolic doctrine of the\nAtonement must be looked at in connection with the ideas inspired by\nthe Law, although, of course, the life and work of our Lord so\nenlarged the religious conceptions of the Apostles as to constitute a\nfresh revelation. But it was a revelation on the lines, so to speak,\nof the old; it took up and continued the ideas implanted by the Mosaic\nreligion, and displayed the fulfilment of the earlier promises and\nforecasts. It is, therefore, from the Old Testament that we have to\nlearn the vocabulary of the apostolic writings. As the Messianic hopes\nand phraseology throw light upon the apostolic conception of the\nKingdom of Christ, so the sacrificial ceremonies and language of the\nLaw throw light upon the apostolic conception of the Sacrifice, the\nAtonement of Christ. But this is not all. The Mosaic institutions, in\ntheir general outlines, were no arbitrary and artificial symbols, but\ncorresponded to religious feelings, needs, aspirations that may truly\nbe called natural and universal. This conception of sin in its twofold\naspect of alienation and of guilt, and this idea of sacrifice as\neffecting man's restoration to union with God, and also as expiating\nhis guilt by suffering, correspond to what the human conscience, when\ndeeply and sincerely investigated, declares to be its inmost secret.\nEvery man who has once realized sin, can also realize the feelings of\nthe Jew who longed to make an expiation for the guilt of the past, to\nsuffer some loss, some penalty that would cover his sin, and who\ntherefore brought his offering before God, made the unconscious victim\nhis representative, the bearer of his guilt, and by slaying it strove\nto make atonement. We feel the same need, the same longing. This load\nof guilt has to be laid down somehow: this past sinfulness must meet\nwith a punishment which will make expiation for it: before this lost\nunion with God can be restored we must be assured of pardon, must know\nthat the wrath of God no longer abides on us, but has been turned\naway, and finds no longer in us the sin which is the one obstacle to\nthe free course of Divine love. And then we know further that bitter\ntruth which came to the loftiest minds among the Jews, that no\nsacrifice of ours can have atoning value, for God demands the offering\nof ourselves, and we are so weakened by sin that we cannot give\nourselves up to Him, so polluted by sin that we cannot be\nwell-pleasing in His eyes. In order to atone, sacrifice must be no\noutward ceremony, the offering of this or that possession, the\nfulfilment of this or that externally-imposed ordinance, but the\nentire surrender of self to God, and to His law, a surrender dictated\nfrom within by the free impulse of the will. Therefore, just as the\nspiritually-minded Jew felt the continual discrepancy between the\nexternal ceremonies which he was bound to fulfil, and the complete\nsubmission to the will of God which they could not effect, and without\nwhich they were wholly inadequate, so every awakened conscience must\nfeel the fruitlessness of any outward expression of devotion and\nobedience so long as there is no complete sacrifice of self.\n\nThese, then, seem to be the conditions which must be satisfied before\nan atonement can meet the needs of the human heart and conscience,\nwhether these are inferred from an examination of the Hebrew religious\ninstitutions or are gathered from our own knowledge of ourselves and\nof others. There is, first of all, the consciousness of guilt, of an\noffended God, of a law transgressed, of punishment impending, to\nexpiate which some sacrifice is necessary, but no sacrifice adequate\nto which can be offered by us as we are. Propitiation is the first\ndemand of the law, and we cannot, of ourselves, propitiate Him whose\nanger we have righteously incurred. Secondly, we long for an abiding\nunion with Him, and for the full bestowal of the Divine life which\nresults from that union alone. Propitiation is not enough by itself,\nthough propitiation is the necessary first step in the process of\nreconciliation. Aliens, by our own sinful acts, and by the sin of our\nforefathers, from the life of God, we yet long to return and to live\nonce more in Him. But this is equally impossible for us to accomplish\nof ourselves. By sin we have exiled ourselves, but we cannot return by\nmere force of will. Both as propitiation, therefore, and as reunion,\nthe Atonement must come from without and cannot be accomplished by\nthose who themselves have need of it. But there is a third condition,\napparently irreconcileable with the other two. This same consciousness\nof guilt which demands an expiation demands that it shall be personal,\nthe satisfaction of the sense of personal responsibility, and of the\nunconquerable conviction of our own freedom. The propitiatory\nsacrifice which is to effect our reunion must, for we are powerless to\noffer it, come from without: but at the same time we cannot but feel\nthat it must come into contact with the will, it must be the inward\nsacrifice, the freewill offering of the whole nature that has sinned.\n\n\nII. If the redemptive work of Christ satisfies these conditions it is\nevident that it is not a simple, but a very complex fact. The fault of\nmany of the theories of the Atonement has been that, though none of\nthem failed to be partially true, they were limited to one or other of\nthe various aspects which that mysterious fact presents. It is\ncertain, again, that of this complex fact no adequate explanation can\nbe given. At every stage in the process which is generally summed up\nin the one word Atonement we are in presence of forces which issue\nfrom infinity and pass out of our sight even while we are\ncontemplating their effects. And even if the Atonement could be\naltogether reduced, so to speak, to terms of human experience, it will\nbe shewn that man's forgiveness, the nearest analogy of which we have\nany knowledge, is an experience of which no logical explanation can be\ngiven, which seems to share, indeed, something of the mystery of its\nDivine antitype. But though it is almost blasphemous to pretend to\nfathom the depth of the Atonement, to lay out the whole truth so as to\nsatisfy the formulae of human reason, it is necessary so to understand\nit as to discern its response to the imperative demands of the sense\nof sin and the desire for forgiveness. Whatever the ultimate mysteries\nof the death of Christ may be, it is certain that it has had power to\nconvince men of forgiveness and to give them a new life. It must\ntherefore in some way satisfy the conditions which, as we have seen,\nare laid down by human consciousness and experience. It is under the\nthreefold aspect required by those conditions that the doctrine of the\nAtonement will be here presented.\n\n1. The death of Christ is, in the first place, to be regarded as\npropitiatory. On the one hand there is man's desire, natural and\nalmost instinctive, to make expiation for his guilt: on the other\nthere is the tremendous fact of the wrath of God against sin. The\ndeath of Christ is the expiation for those past sins which have laid\nthe burden of guilt upon the human soul, and it is also the\npropitiation of the wrath of God. As we have seen, over against the\nsense of sin and of liability to the Divine wrath there has always\nexisted the idea of sacrifice by which that wrath might be averted.\nMan could not offer an acceptable sacrifice: it has been offered for\nhim by Christ. That is the simplest, and it would seem the most\nscriptural way of stating the central truth, which is also the deepest\nmystery, of the Atonement, and it seems to sum up and include the\nvarious other metaphors and descriptions of the redemptive work of\nChrist. But its mere statement at once suggests questions, the\nconsideration of which will lead to a fuller understanding of the\ndoctrine. Thus we have to ask. What is it which is propitiated by\nChrist's death? In other words, What is meant by the wrath of God\nagainst sin?\n\n(_a_) It should be remembered that though there is great danger in\nanthropomorphism, and though most of the superstition which has ever\nbeen the shadow cast by religion on the world has arisen from an\nexaggerated conception of the likeness of God to ourselves, yet there\nis, after all, no other way of knowing God than by representing Him\nunder conceptions formed by our own consciousness and experience, and\nthis method is pre-eminently incumbent upon us who believe that man is\nmade 'in the image of God.' We are certain, for instance, that love,\npity, justice, are affections which, however imperfectly they may be\nfound in us, do make for goodness, and if we may not ascribe these\nsame affections, infinitely raised and purified, to God, we have no\nmeans of conceiving His character, of knowing 'with whom we have to\ndeal.'\n\nOur knowledge, even of ourselves, is after all fragmentary[220], and\nthus truths of whose certainty we are convinced may seem\nirreconcileably opposed to each other. Our conception of love, for\nexample, is a fragment, and we cannot trace it up to the meeting-point\nat which it is reconciled with justice, so that in our moral judgments\nwe are continually oscillating, as it were, between the two. But this\nfact should not hinder us from ascribing to God in their fullest\ndegree both love and justice, confident that in Him they are\nharmonized because we are confident from the verdict of our own\nconsciences that both are good, and because even in such imperfect\nreflections of His image as, for instance, parental love, we see at\nleast a partial harmony of them. When then a doubt arises as to the\nliteral explanation of the phrase 'the wrath of God,' the difficulty\nmust not be met by the simple assertion that we cannot reconcile the\nidea of wrath with that of the love of God: we must ask whether wrath,\nas it exists in us, is a good and righteous affection, or whether it\nis always and entirely evil. To this question there can be but one\nanswer. We are conscious of a righteous anger, of an affection of\ndispleasure that a good man ought to feel against sin and evil, and\nthis is amply justified by the scriptural references to righteous\nanger, and by the accounts of our Lord's displays of indignation\nagainst evil. But though we are thus compelled to find room, so to\nspeak, for anger in our conception of God's character, it is not\ntherefore necessary to ascribe to Him that disturbance of the\nspiritual nature, or that change in the direction of the will, which\nare almost invariable accompaniments of human anger. These are the\ndefects of the human affection, from which arises the sinful tendency\nin our anger, and which cannot be thought of in connection with the\nall-holy and all-wise God. On the other hand, it is not possible to\nlimit the conception of the 'wrath of God' to the acts whereby sin is\nor will be punished, which was the explanation of some of the Fathers,\nor to think of it as in the future only, to come into existence only\non the day of judgment, as has been attempted by some modern\ntheologians. The scriptural expressions, including as we must the\npassages which speak of our Lord's anger, cannot be so weakened. 'The\nwrath of God' seems to denote no changeful impulse or passing feeling,\nbut the fixed and necessary hostility of the Divine Nature to sin; and\nthe idea must further include the manifestation of that hostility,\nwhenever sin comes before God, in external acts of vengeance,\npunishment and destruction. God's anger is not only the displeasure of\nan offended Person: it is possible that this is altogether a wrong\nconception of it: it must be further the expression of justice, which\nnot only hates but punishes. The relation of the Divine Nature to sin\nis thus twofold: it is the personal hostility, if we may call it so,\nof holiness to sin, and it is also the righteousness which punishes\nsin because it is lawless. The two ideas are intimately connected, and\nnot unfrequently, when we should have expected to find in the Bible\nthe wrath of God spoken of, the language of judgment and righteousness\nis substituted for it. Sin is necessarily hateful to the holiness of\nGod, but also, because sin is lawlessness, it is judged, condemned,\nand punished by Him in accordance with the immutable law of\nrighteousness, which is the law of His own Nature. Therefore, to turn\nfrom God's wrath against sin to the mode in which that wrath may be\naverted, it results that the sacrifice offered for sin must be both a\npropitiation and a satisfaction. Anger, so we think, is but a feeling,\nand may be ousted by another feeling; love can strive against wrath\nand overcome it; the Divine hatred of sin need raise no obstacle to\nthe free forgiveness of the sinner. So we might think; but a true\nethical insight shews us that this affection of anger, of hatred, is\nin reality the expression of justice, and derives from the law of\nrighteousness, which is not above God, nor is it dependent on His\nWill, for it is Himself. 'He cannot deny Himself'; He cannot put away\nHis wrath, until the demands of Law have been satisfied, until the\nsacrifice has been offered to expiate, to cover, to atone for the sins\nof the world. The reconciliation to be effected is not merely the\nreconciliation of man to God by the change wrought in man's rebellious\nnature, but it is also the propitiation of God Himself, whose wrath\nunappeased and whose justice unsatisfied are the barriers thrown\nacross the sinner's path to restoration.\n\n(_b_) But how, we ask further, was this propitiation made by the\nSacrifice on the Cross? Or, to put the question rather differently,\nwhat was it that gave to the death of Christ its propitiatory value?\nIn attempting to suggest an answer to this question it is necessary to\nbear in mind the distinction between the actual event, or series of\nevents, which constituted the Propitiatory Sacrifice, and that inner\nelement which was thereby manifested, and which gave to the actual\nevent its worth. S.\u00a0Bernard expressed the distinction in the\nwell-known words 'Not His death, but His willing acceptance of death,\nwas pleasing to God,' and there can be no doubt that throughout the\nNew Testament special stress is laid upon the perfect obedience\nmanifested in the life and death of Christ, upon the accomplishment of\nHis Father's will which He ever kept in view, and upon the contrast\nthus marked between the Mosaic sacrifices and the one atoning\noffering. 'Sacrifices and offerings and whole burnt offerings and\nsacrifices for sin Thou wouldest not, neither hadst pleasure therein\n... then hath He said, Lo, I am come to do Thy will.'\n\nThat the perfect obedience displayed in the passion and death of our\nLord was the element which gave to the sacrifice its propitiatory\nvalue will be more readily understood when it is remembered that the\nessence of man's sin was from the first disobedience, the rebellion of\nthe human will against the commands of God. The perfect sacrifice was\noffered by One Who, being man with all man's liability to temptation,\nthat is with all the instruments of sin at His disposal[221], and\nexposed to every suggestion to set up His will against that of the\nFather, yet throughout His life continued unswervingly bent on doing\n'not His own will, but the will of the Father Who sent Him,' and Who\nthus displayed the original perfection of human nature, the unbroken\nunion with the life of God. On the cross the final struggle, the\nsupreme temptation took place. The obedience shewn throughout His life\nwas there manifested in death. 'He became obedient unto death, even\nthe death of the cross.' At any moment of the passion a single\nacquiescence in evil, a single submission to the law of\nunrighteousness, a single swerving of His will from its choice of\nabsolute obedience, would, we may believe, have ended all the shame\nand torture. And therefore there was needed at every moment a real\neffort of His human will to keep itself in union with the will of\nGod[222]; it was not a mere submission at the outset once for all, but\na continuous series of voluntary acts of resignation and obedience.\nHere then is the spirit of sacrifice which God demands, and which\ncould not be found in the sacrifices of the Mosaic law, or in any\noffering of sinful man. The essence of the Atonement was the mind of\nChrist therein displayed, the obedience gradually learnt and therein\nperfected, the will of Christ therein proved to be one with the\nFather's will.\n\nBut we may discern a further element of propitiation in the death of\nour Lord. The law of righteousness, the justice of God, demands not\nonly obedience in the present, but retribution for the past. 'The sins\ndone aforetime' had been 'passed over in the forbearance of God' for\nHis own purposes, which are not revealed to us: this 'passing over'\nhad obscured the true nature of sin and of the Divine justice. Men had\ncome to have easy thoughts of sin and its consequences; the heathen\nfelt but vaguely the burden of guilt, the Jew trusted in the mere\nexternal works of the law. In the death of Christ a manifestation was\nmade of the righteousness of God, of His wrath, the absolute hostility\nof His nature to sin. 'God set Him forth to be a propitiation, through\nfaith, by His blood, to shew His righteousness, because of the passing\nover of the sins done aforetime, in the forbearance of God.' But this\nmanifestation of Divine justice might have been made by mere\npunishment: it became a propitiation, in that He, the self-chosen\nvictim, by His acceptance of it, recognised the righteousness of the\nlaw which was vindicated on the cross. Men had refused to acknowledge\nGod's justice in the consequences of sin; nothing but the willing\nacceptance of suffering, as the due portion of the human nature in\nwhich the sin was wrought, could have so declared the justice of God's\nlaw as to be a propitiation of Divine wrath. The cross was, on the one\nhand, the proclamation of God's ordinance against sin, on the other it\nwas the response of man at length acknowledging the righteousness of\nthe condemnation[223].\n\nBut on looking more closely into the matter, it is obvious that these\nexplanations are not by themselves enough to account for the\nscriptural facts which we call the Atonement. We cannot ignore that,\nwhether we consider the Old Testament anticipations, or the New\nTestament narrative of our Lord's work, His death, apart from the\nobedience manifested in it, occupies a unique place, and that stress\nis laid on it which would be unaccountable were it _only_ the extreme\ntrial of His obedience. The frequent declaration that it was\nnecessary, that 'it behoved Christ to die,' seems to point to\nsomething exceptional in it, something more than the mere close of His\nspotless life. So again the mysterious dread and horror with which He\nlooked forward to it testify to something in it which goes far beyond\nany human experience of death[224]. And what we gather from the New\nTestament must be combined with the Old Testament premonitions of\nChrist's death, as typified by the Mosaic sacrifices. There can be no\nquestion that death was, speaking generally, an integral part of the\nidea of sacrifice for sin, and that the distinguishing ceremonial of\nthe slaying of the victim points to a special significance in death as\nconnected with expiation and propitiation. Therefore, although we may\nstill recognise that it was the spirit of obedience and voluntary\nsubmission which gave atoning value to the death of Christ, we cannot\nignore the necessity of death as the appointed form which the\nobedience took. Had He not obeyed, He would not have atoned; but had\nHe not died, the obedience would have lacked just that element which\nmade it an atonement for sin. The obedience was intended to issue in\ndeath. S.\u00a0Bernard's saying, though true as he meant it, is, if taken\nquite literally, too sharp an antithesis. There is nothing\nwell-pleasing to God in death alone, it is true; but there is, so He\nhas revealed it, something well-pleasing to His righteousness,\nsomething propitiatory in death, if as a further condition the perfect\nobedience of the victim is thereby displayed.\n\nWe are driven to the same conclusion by the second explanation of our\nLord's sacrifice given above. It is not enough to say that He died in\norder to manifest God's righteous judgment against sin, for the\nquestion remains, Why is death the requisite manifestation of\njudgment? If He endured it because it is the only fitting punishment,\nwhy is it in such a signal manner the penalty of sin? We can point\nindeed to the Divine principle, 'The soul that sinneth, it shall die,'\nas we can point to God's declared will that expiation shall be made by\nmeans of death, but in neither case, whether death be looked upon as\nthe punishment or as the expiation of sin, is there any explanation of\nits unique position. It may well be that here we are confronted by the\nfinal mystery, and that the propitiatory virtue of Christ's death,\ntypified by the slaying of animal victims under the law, foreshadowed\nby the almost universal belief in the expiation of blood, acknowledged\nwith wondering gratitude by the human heart, depends upon the\nunsearchable will and hidden purposes of God, except in so far as we\ncan see in it the manifestation at once of Christ's perfect obedience\nand of the righteousness of Divine judgment. If an attempt is made to\npenetrate further into the mystery of Redemption, it can be but a\nspeculation, but it will be saved from overboldness if it follows the\ngeneral lines of God's action as revealed in His Word.\n\nSome light may be thrown upon the mystery of Christ's death by\nconsidering the scriptural view of death in general as the penalty of\nsin. It is not the mere physical act of dying, for that, as\nS.\u00a0Athanasius says, is natural to man[225], and can be traced in the\nanimal world in the ages before man existed. Besides, our Lord is said\nto have delivered us from death, and this clearly cannot mean physical\ndeath, since to this all men are still subject, but rather spiritual\ndeath; and the death which is spoken of as the penalty of sin must\ntherefore also be spiritual. In this sense death can be no other than\nthe final removal from us of God's presence, the completion of the\nalienation from the Divine life which sin began. But, considering the\nclose connection, throughout the Bible, of physical and spiritual\ndeath, may it not be that the former is more than the symbol and type\nof the latter, that it is actually its consummation? If, again, death\nbe truly represented by the Christian consciousness as the close of\nman's probation, does not this also point to its being the moment when\nthe light of God's presence, the strength of His life, is finally\nwithdrawn from the impenitent sinner, and the spiritual death, which\nis the one essential punishment of sin, falls upon him? The sentence\nof death, then, under which the whole world lay apart from the\nAtonement[226], was the declaration that every man who by inheritance\nand by his own act shared in Adam's sin, should at the moment of\nphysical death experience also the full measure of spiritual death.\nThe common lot of death thus involved the consciousness of separation\nfrom the life of God, and when we so regard it, we can understand\nsomething of the horror which its anticipation brought upon the soul\nof the Son of God[227]. He must pass through this last and most awful\nhuman experience; not only because it was human, but because by the\nvictorious endurance of it alone could the propitiation be\naccomplished. The thought throws light upon the prominence given to\nthe death of Christ, upon His dread of it, upon His mysterious cry of\ndereliction upon the cross. It shows us how, though the experience was\ncommon to man, yet in Him it was in a twofold manner unique. The\nwithdrawal of God's presence, awful as it is to the sin-hardened\nnature of man, must have been immeasurably more bitter to Him Who was\nOne with the Father, whose 'meat was to do the will of His Father.'\nJust as we may believe the tortures of the cross to have been\nspecially grievous to the perfect body which was unstained by sin,\nthough other men have endured them, so, though all have to pass\nthrough death with its accompanying terror of the loss of God's\npresence, none can realize what that experience was to Him, because He\nwas the Son of God. The death of Christ was therefore unique because\nof the nature of Him Who underwent it. But it was also unique in its\nresults. No other death had been a propitiation for sin, for in no\nother death had this overwhelming consciousness of dereliction been\nendured victoriously, with no failure of perfect obedience, no\nshrinking of the will from the ordained task. In this final experience\nthe offering was complete, the essence of the propitiation was\nsecured, for the actual result of all human sin was herein made the\nvery revelation of holiness itself, the means whereby the union with\nthe will of God, so far from being finally broken, was finally\nperfected. The propitiatory value, therefore, of the sacrifice of\nChrist lay in His absolute obedience, in His willing acceptance of\nsuffering which was thereby acknowledged as the due reward of sin, and\nin the death which was the essential form of both, for death is the\nculminating point of the alienation from God, which is both sin and\nits punishment. He alone endured it victoriously and without sin; He\nalone, therefore, transformed it from the sign and occasion of God's\nwrath into a well-pleasing offering; He took the punishment and made\nit a propitiation. 'The chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and\nwith His stripes we are healed.'\n\n(_c_) So far we have considered the sacrifice of Christ in its aspect\nGodwards: we have tried to find an answer to the question, How did the\ndeath of Christ propitiate the wrath of God? There remains the further\nquestion, How was it a sacrifice for us? It was, we can see, a perfect\noffering acceptable to God: but how has it availed 'for us men'? The\nmind shrinks from a purely external Atonement, and part of the\nimperfection of the Mosaic sacrifices consisted in the merely\nartificial relation between the offender and the victim. In the\nperfect sacrifice this relation must be real; and we are thus led to\nthe truth, so often overlooked, but impressed on every page of the New\nTestament, that He who died for our sins was our true representative\nin that He was truly man. Without for the present going into the more\nmystical doctrine of Christ as the second Adam, the spiritual head of\nour race, what is here emphasized is the reality and perfection of His\nhuman nature, which gave Him the right to offer a representative\nsacrifice[228]. 'For verily not of angels doth He take hold, but He\ntaketh hold of the seed of Abraham. Wherefore it behoved Him in all\nthings to be made like unto His brethren, that He might be a merciful\nand faithful High Priest in things pertaining to God, to make\npropitiation for the sins of the people.' Being thus 'taken from among\nmen,' He was 'appointed for--or, on behalf of--men' and the\njustification of His Priesthood is the complete reality of His\nhumanity, which, if we may so speak, overlay and hid His Divinity, so\nthat 'though He was a Son,' unchangeably 'in the form of God,' 'yet\nlearnt He obedience by the things which He suffered,' and thus became\nfor us a perfect Priest. The sinless perfection of Christ, far from\nremoving Him out of the sphere of our sinful lives, made Him perfectly\nrepresentative; for He not only possessed in their greatest perfection\nall the powers and capacities which are the instruments of sin, but in\nthe strength of His sinlessness and of His love He could feel for all\nmen and accept them as His brethren, though they were sinners. Our\nHigh Priest 'hath been in all points like as we are, yet without sin.'\nThe holiest man has some part of his nature stunted and repressed by\nsin, and is so far incomplete, unrepresentative: but He, unweakened\nand unmarred in any point by sin, can without holding anything back\nrepresent human nature in its perfection and entirety.\n\nThe representative character of Christ is manifested in a different\naspect, according as He is regarded as the victim or as the priest\noffering the sacrifice. As the victim He must be the sin-bearer, for\nthe transfer of guilt--which under the Mosaic system was merely\nsymbolised by the act of laying hands on the victim's head--must for a\ntrue propitiatory sacrifice be more than external and artificial. That\nis to say, there must be a real meaning in S.\u00a0Paul's tremendous words,\n'Him Who knew no sin He made to be sin on our behalf,' in the passages\nin which He is described as bearing our sins[229], in the great\nprophecy which told that 'the Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us\nall.' How can we find an explanation of the paradox so boldly stated\nby S.\u00a0Paul, that He who knew no sin was yet made sin? We may not\nsurely take all these plain phrases to mean that He bore the\n_punishment_ of our sins: it would have been easy to say that had it\nbeen meant. No, the relation typified by the Mosaic offerings must be\nreal, and yet the expression 'He made Him to be sin' cannot without\nblasphemy be understood to mean that God the Father actually made His\nSon to sin. The solution of the difficulty can only be found in the\ntruth of the Incarnation. In order that the sacrifice might be\nrepresentative, He took upon Him the whole of our human nature, and\nbecame flesh, conditioned though that fleshly nature was throughout by\nsin[230]. It was not only in His death that we contemplate Him as the\nsin-bearer, but throughout His life He was, as it were, conditioned by\nthe sinfulness of those with whom His human nature brought Him into\nclose and manifold relations. The Crucifixion does not come as the\nunexpectedly shameful end of a glorious and untroubled life, though it\nwas undoubtedly in a special sense the manifestation of the 'curse'\nunder which He laid Himself. We cannot say that at a given moment in\nHis life, as when the sinner's hands were laid upon the victim's head\nand his guilt was transferred, He began to bear our iniquity, for the\nvery nature which He took, freed though it was in Him from hereditary\nguilt, was in itself, by its necessary human relations, sin-bearing.\nNor did His personal sinlessness make this impossible or unreal;\nrather it intensified it. As S.\u00a0Matthew tells us, even in relation to\nbodily sickness and infirmity, that He bore what He took\naway--'Himself took our infirmities, and bare our diseases'--so it was\nwith our redemption from sin. In taking it away, He had to bear its\nweight, intensified by reason of that very self-sacrificing love which\nmade Him realize with more than human keenness the sinfulness of the\nhuman nature into which He had come. There is thus nothing artificial\nor external in His sin-bearing, for His human nature was so real and\nso perfect that He was involved, so to speak, in all the consequences\nof the sin which is so tremendous a factor in human life, even to the\nenduring of the very sufferings and death which in us are the penal\nresults and final outcome of sin, but in Him were the means of His\nfree self-sacrifice.\n\nOnce more He was our representative as the Priest who offered the\nsacrifice. The requisite conditions of such an office are stated, in\nthe Epistle to the Hebrews, to be complete human sympathy, and yet\nsuch separateness from sin, and from all limitations of\nincompleteness, as can only be Divine. 'It behoved Him in all things\nto be made like unto His brethren, that He might be a merciful and\nfaithful high priest;' 'but He, because He abideth for ever, hath His\npriesthood unchangeable ... for such a high priest became us, holy,\nharmless, undefiled, separated from sinners, and made higher than the\nheavens;' 'for the law appointeth men high priests, having infirmity;\nbut the word of the oath, which was after the law, appointeth a Son,\nperfected for evermore[231].' In these and similar passages the\ndoctrine of the Priesthood of Christ is developed, and it is obvious\nthat quite as much stress is laid on His unlikeness, as on His\nlikeness to us[232]. He is our representative as Priest, because He is\nboth man and more than man, and can therefore perform for us what we\ncould not and cannot perform for ourselves, in offering the perfect\npropitiatory sacrifice. Here is the true vicariousness of the\nAtonement, which consisted, not, as we shall see later, in the\nsubstitution of His punishment for ours, but in His offering the\nsacrifice which man had neither purity nor power to offer. From out of\nthe very heart and centre of the human nature which was so enslaved\nand corrupted by sin that no human offering was acceptable to God\nthere is raised the sinless sacrifice of perfect humanity by the\nGod-Man, our great High Priest: human in the completeness of His\nsympathy, Divine in the unique power of His Priesthood. So is the\ncondition of the law of righteousness fulfilled, and the sacrifice of\nobedience unto death is offered by His submission to all that\nconstitutes in sinners the consummation and the punishment of their\nsin, which He transformed into the occasion and the manifestation of\nHis perfect holiness. And it is a representative sacrifice, for unique\nthough it is, it consists of no unheard-of experience, of no merely\nsymbolical ceremony, unrelated and unmeaning to us; but of just those\nuniversal incidents of suffering which, though He must have felt them\nwith a bitterness unknown to us, are intensely human--poverty,\nmisunderstanding, failure, treachery, rejection, bodily anguish,\nspiritual desolation, death. 'Surely He hath borne our griefs, and\ncarried our sorrows.... The chastisement of our peace was upon Him,'\nand therefore 'by His stripes we are healed.'\n\n2. It is not enough to consider the death of Christ only as\npropitiatory, or as standing alone in relation to our redemption. We\nhave seen how it secured our propitiation, and in what sense it has a\nunique place in relation both to our Lord Himself and to man. There\nremains the further aspect of His redemptive work, in which it is\nregarded as effecting our reunion with God by delivering us from the\npower of sin, and by filling us with the Divine gift of life. This, it\nshould be noticed, is the conception of our Lord's work which was\nchiefly in the minds of the early Christian writers, though in almost\nall it was combined with the acknowledgment of His deliverance of man\nfrom guilt and from the wrath of God by His representative\npropitiation[233]. But to their consciousness the power of sin and of\nthe spiritual forces with which man is surrounded was so continually\npresent, that they were naturally inclined to look mainly at that side\nof the Atonement which represents it as the victory over sin and Satan\nand the restoration of man to the life of God. And this view, though\nby no means to the exclusion of the propitiatory aspect, is amply\njustified by the Bible. Considered as restoration, there seem to be\nthree grades or stages of redemption indicated in the New Testament.\nFirst, there is the unanimous declaration that the object of our\nLord's life and death was to free us from sin. In the most sacrificial\ndescriptions of His work this further result of the Atonement is\nimplied. The 'Lamb of God' is to 'take away the _sin_ of the world';\nHis Blood was to be 'shed for the remission of _sins_'; by 'the\nprecious Blood of Jesus Christ as of a Lamb without blemish' men were\n'redeemed from their vain conversation'; He 'gave Himself for us, that\nHe might redeem us from all _iniquity_.' In the next place, this\ndeliverance from sin is identified with the gift of life, which is\nrepeatedly connected with our Lord's life and death. 'I am come that\nthey might have life'; for 'I will give My flesh for the life of the\nworld.' 'He died for all, that they which live should not henceforth\nlive unto themselves, but unto Him who died for them and rose again.'\nHe 'bare our sins in His own body on the tree, that we being dead to\nsins might live unto righteousness.' Lastly, this new life is to issue\nin union with the life of God in Christ. 'Christ suffered for sins,\nthe just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God.' 'In Christ\nJesus ye that once were far off are made nigh in the Blood of Christ.'\nIn such passages the Apostles are only drawing out the meaning of our\nLord's own declaration, 'I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto\nMe.'\n\nOur Lord's death is thus intimately connected by the New Testament\nwriters with the restoration of man to union with God by means of the\ngift of life; but it should be noticed that, unique and necessary as\nHis death was, it is continually spoken of in close connection with\nthe Resurrection or the Ascension, for in these, as was foreshadowed\nby the typical ceremonies of the Law, the sacrifice culminated by the\npresentation of the 'life which had willingly passed through death'\nbefore the altar of God's presence. The reason is clear. Pardon for\nthe past, deliverance from guilt, propitiation of the just wrath of\nGod, are necessary and all-important; but they cannot stand alone.\nThey must, for man is helpless and weak, be succeeded by the gift of\nlife, and for this we must look to those mighty acts in which the One\nSacrifice reached its full consummation. Thus our Lord Himself\ndeclares that He died in order to rise again; 'I lay down My life that\n[in order that] I may take it again.' So to S.\u00a0Paul the Resurrection\nis the necessary completion of the process which was begun by the\ndeath. 'He was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for\nour justification.' 'If while we were enemies, we were reconciled to\nGod through the death of His Son, much more being reconciled, shall we\nbe saved through [in] His life.' 'We were buried with Him through\nbaptism unto death; that [in order that] like as Christ was raised\nfrom the dead through the glory of the Father, so we also might walk\nin newness of life.' Even the passages which speak of our salvation as\neffected by virtue of Christ's Blood, refer, according to the Jewish\nconception of the 'blood which is the life,' not only, or even\nchiefly, to the bloodshedding in death, but to the heavenly\n'sprinkling' of the principle of life, its presentation in heaven by\nmeans of the Resurrection and Ascension. The whole process is\ndescribed in what may be called the central core of S.\u00a0Paul's\ntheology, the eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans. 'It is\nChrist Jesus that died, yea rather, that was raised from the dead, who\nis at the Right Hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us.' It\nhas been the fault of much popular theology to think only of our\ndeliverance from wrath by the sacrificial death of Christ, and to\nneglect the infinitely important continuation of the process thus\nbegun. The Gospel is a religion of life, the call to a life of union\nwith God by means of the grace which flows from the mediation of the\nrisen and ascended Saviour. We need not discuss the comparative\nimportance of the two aspects of the work of Atonement, for\npropitiation and reunion, pardon and life are alike necessary elements\nin salvation, and by the love of God in Christ are united in the\nsacrifice which was begun on Calvary, and is for ever presented for\nour redemption before the throne of God in heaven.\n\n3. So far we have been considering the Atonement as our Lord's work on\nbehalf of men: we have now to consider it as meeting the inevitable\ndemand of the human conscience that this vicarious sacrifice shall in\nsome way satisfy man's sense of personal responsibility; that by means\nof the Atonement man shall, so far as he can, make amends for his own\nsin. The charge of injustice, as it is generally urged against the\ndoctrine of the Atonement, rests, as will be shewn, upon a fundamental\nmisconception as to the nature of Christ's work for us; but it is also\ncommonly assumed that by the death of Christ all was done for man, and\nnothing in man, so that we are thereby relieved of all responsibility\nfor our own wilful acts. It is this notion that we have now to\ninvestigate. First, however, we must acknowledge the truth contained\nin it. The Atonement is, after all, God's forgiveness of us in Christ,\nand no forgiveness is conceivable which does not in some degree\nrelieve the offender of the consequences of his offence. Human\nforgiveness, though it may in some cases, perhaps, remit no part of\nthe external penalty due to wrong-doing, must, in the very act of\nforgiving, put away and abolish the anger of the offended person, the\nalienation which the offence has caused, and which is certainly part,\nsometimes the greatest part, of the penal consequences of an offence.\nHuman forgiveness, therefore, necessarily transgresses the strict law\nof retribution: yet no one can seriously contend that forgiveness is\neither impossible or immoral. And more than this, there is even in our\nimperfect forgiveness a power to blot out guilt, and to restore the\noffender to new life. Inexplicable though the fact may be, experience\ntells us that forgiveness avails to lift the load of guilt that\npresses upon an offender. A change passes over him that can only be\ndescribed as regenerative, life-giving; and thus the assurance of\npardon, however conveyed, may be said to obliterate in some degree the\nconsequences of the past[234]. It is true that this result of\nforgiveness cannot be explained logically so as to satisfy the reason,\nbut the possibility and the power of pardon are nevertheless facts of\nhuman experience. The Atonement is undoubtedly a mystery, but all\nforgiveness is a mystery. The Atonement undoubtedly transgresses the\nstrict law of exact retribution, but all forgiveness transgresses it.\nAnd we may believe that human forgiveness is, in spite of all its\nimperfection, like that of God, for this is surely the lesson of the\nLord's Prayer, 'Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that\ntrespass against us.' Experience and conscience, therefore, lead us to\nexpect that the Divine method of forgiveness will both disprove the\nexaggerated idea of personal responsibility, which is based on a false\nestimate of man's power, and will also transcend reason by rising into\na region of mystery and of miracle[235]. We have to deal in this\nsphere of pardon with a God Who 'declares His almighty power most\nchiefly in showing mercy and pity.'\n\nOne aspect of this mystery is to be found in the truth, stamped on\nevery page of the New Testament, of the mystical union between Christ\nand His people. By virtue of this union His acts are ascribed to us;\nand thus, according to S.\u00a0Paul, we died in Him, we are raised in Him,\nand the sacrifice which He offered, we have also offered, as in Him.\nThe doctrine of the Second Adam, of the spiritual headship of Christ,\nwould not indeed if it stood alone satisfy the demands of the\nconscience; but when taken in connection with the practical\nsacramental teaching which is based upon it, it points to the solution\nof the problem. By the Incarnation we are taken up into Him, and\ntherefore the acts that in His human nature He performed are our acts,\nby virtue of that union which is described by Him as the union of a\nvine with its branches, by S.\u00a0Paul as that of the head with the\nmembers of a body. But in considering the results of this union, the\nreciprocal communication of the weakness of our bodily nature to Him,\nof His victorious deeds in the body to us a distinction must be drawn\nbetween that part of His work which can, and that which cannot be\nshared by us. Of one part of His work, of the sacrifice which He\noffered for man's guilt, the essence was its vicariousness. Man could\nnot and never can offer a sacrifice which can avail to propitiate for\nthe sins of the past. It is only in virtue of that one final and\nperfect propitiation that we can draw nigh to God, can accomplish\nanything good, can recognise that we are delivered from wrath. The\nsins of the past are cancelled, the guilt is wiped out: in this\nrespect all was accomplished by Him for us who are in Him, and nothing\nremains for us to do. He as our Representative, because He shares our\nnature, can offer for us a prevailing sacrifice; only as His brethren,\nbecause He has united us to Him, are we enabled to plead the sacrifice\nwhich He offered. It is indeed offered for us, for it was utterly\nimpossible that we could offer it for ourselves; it was the necessary\ninitial step, which man could not take, towards union with the\nrighteous Father. As our spiritual head, the second Adam, the captain\nof our salvation, He had the right of offering on our behalf; as in\nHim by virtue of the Incarnation we are empowered to claim the\ninfinite blessings of the redemption so obtained[236]. If this is\nmysterious, irrational, transcendental, so is all morality; for at the\nroot of all morality lies the power of self-sacrifice, which is\nnothing but the impulse of love to make a vicarious offering for its\nfellows, and the virtue of such an offering to restore and to\nquicken[237]. The righteousness of God required from the human nature\nwhich had sinned the sacrifice of a perfect obedience manifested in\nand through death: that is the unique and unapproachable mystery of\nthe Atonement; but that the sacrifice should be offered by a sinless\nMan, and that we should be accepted by God in virtue of His\npropitiation and because of our union with Him, that, though\nmysterious enough, as human reason counts mystery, is prefigured and\nillustrated and explained by all the deepest experiences of the race,\nby all that is most human, though it most evades logical analysis, in\nour moral consciousness[238].\n\nThere is then no additional propitiation demanded from us. The\nAtonement, in this aspect, requires nothing from us, for the\nforgiveness is there, bestowed upon us by God in consequence of the\nsacrifice of Jesus Christ. But like the gifts of grace which come\nafter forgiveness, the forgiveness itself has to be personally\naccepted by us; it must be brought into contact with each man's will.\nSo regarded, the Atonement, though the great gift of reconciliation is\nabsolutely free, the product of the spontaneous love of God, does lay\nupon us an obligation. On our part faith is demanded that we may\nrealize, and appropriate, and associate ourselves with the pardon\nwhich is ours in Christ. This is not the place for a full discussion\nof justifying faith: it is enough to indicate what seems to be its\nrelation to the Atonement, as being man's share in the propitiatory\nwork of Christ. It is often said that the faith which justifies is\nsimply trust[239], but it must surely be a more complex moral act than\nthis. If faith is the acceptance of Christ's propitiation, it must\ncontain, in the first place, that longing for reconciliation which\nsprings from the personal consciousness of sin as alienation from God,\nand from horror of its guilt and power. There must then ensue the\nrecognition of man's complete powerlessness to free himself from sin,\nand a deeply humble sense of dependence on God's mercy; but this mere\ntrust in His mercy is not enough, for it would not satisfy the sense\nof sin. The sinner has to own that God is not merely benevolent, and\nthat sin must be punished. Therefore faith must contain the\nrecognition of the justice of the Divine law against sin, manifested\nin the death of Christ. Faith, in short, starts from the longing for a\nrepresentative to atone for us, and it ends with the recognition of\nChrist as our representative, of His Atonement as sufficient, and of\nHis death as displaying the due reward of sin. For the Atonement\ncannot be a mere external act. If Christ is our representative, He\nmust be acknowledged by those whom He represents: otherwise His\nendurance of suffering would avail nothing for them, for God will not\nbe satisfied with the mere infliction of punishment. But if the result\nof His death is that men are brought, one by one, age after age, to\nacknowledge the righteousness of the law for which He suffered, to\nrecognise the result of sin to which sin has blinded them, then there\nhas been made on their part the first step towards the great\nreconciliation. Faith identifies the individual with the sacrifice\nwhich has been offered for him, and therefore with Christ's attitude\ntowards God and towards sin, and though it is but the first step, yet\nit is emphatically that by reason of which we are justified. For since\nwe are thus identified with the sacrifice, God accepts the first step\nfor the whole course, of which it is the pledge and anticipation. We\nare justified because we believe in God, but also because God believes\nin us[240]. Faith, being what it is, a complex moral act whereby\nChrist's propitiation is accepted by man, implies an attitude of mind\ntowards sin so right that, though it is but the first movement of the\nsoul in Christ, God takes it for the whole, sees us as wholly in Him,\nreckons it to us as righteousness. But only because it is as a matter\nof fact the first, the hardest, perhaps, and the most necessary, but\nstill only the first step towards complete sanctification. And, if we\nnow ask what is the further course of sanctification, the answer will\nshew the full relation of the sacrifice of Christ to man's will and\nconscience. For the life of sanctification is nothing else but the\n'imitation of Christ' in that task of 'learning obedience' to which\nHis life was devoted, and which His death completed. In us, too, as in\nHim, that task has to be accomplished by suffering. 'He learnt\nobedience by the things which He suffered.' 'It became Him ... in\nbringing many sons unto glory, to make the Captain of their salvation\nperfect through sufferings.' That same path towards perfection lies\nbefore all who are justified by faith in His atoning sacrifice. For\njustification is a spiritual act answering to the spiritual act of\nfaith. The spiritual germ of vitality thus implanted in us has to be\ndeveloped in the sphere in which the consequences of sin naturally and\ninevitably work themselves out, in the bodily nature of man. 'Even\nwe,' says S.\u00a0Paul, 'which have the first fruits of the Spirit,' even\nwe are waiting for the further process, for 'the adoption, to wit, the\nredemption of our body.' And the process consists in so following 'the\nCaptain of our salvation' that, like Him, we accept every one of those\nsufferings which are the consequences of sin, but accept them not as\npunishment imposed from without upon unwilling offenders, but as the\nmaterial of our freewill sacrifice. From no one pang or trial of our\nnature has He delivered us, indeed, He has rather laid them upon us\nmore unsparingly, more inevitably. But the sufferings from which He\nwould not deliver us He has transformed for us. They are no longer\npenal, but remedial and penitential. Pain has become the chastisement\nof a Father who loves us, and death the passage into His very\npresence. And this He has done for us by the bestowal upon us of\nspiritual vitality. The germ is implanted by the act of forgiveness\nwhich removes the wrath and the impending death, and this germ of\nlife, cherished and developed by the gifts which flow from His\nmediation and intercession, by the Holy Spirit Whom He sends to dwell\nin us, works on all the penalties of sin, and makes them the sacrifice\nwhich we offer in Him. This is the 'law of the Spirit of life.' 'If\nChrist be in you, the body is dead because of sin; but the Spirit is\nlife because of righteousness. But if the Spirit of Him that raised up\nJesus from the dead dwell in you, He that raised up Christ from the\ndead shall also quicken your mortal bodies by His Spirit that dwelleth\nin you.'\n\nOur personal share then in the Atonement is not mere passivity. It\nconsists, first, in the acceptance of God's forgiveness in Christ, our\nself-identification with Christ's atoning attitude, and then in\nworking out, by the power of the life bestowed upon us, all the\nconsequences of forgiveness, the transformation of punishment into\nsacrifice, the imitation of Christ in His perfect obedience to the law\nof righteousness, the gradual sanctification of body, soul and spirit\nby the grace which enables us to 'suffer with Him.'\n\n\nIII. The doctrine of Atonement, more than any of the great truths of\nChristianity, has been misconceived and misrepresented, and has\ntherefore not only been rejected itself, but has sometimes been the\ncause of the rejection of the whole Christian system. The truth of the\nvicarious sacrifice has been isolated till it has almost become\nuntrue, and, mysterious as it undoubtedly is, it has been so stated as\nto be not only mysterious, but contrary to reason and even to\nconscience. One most terrible misconception it is hardly necessary to\ndo more than mention. The truth of the wrath of God against sin and of\nthe love of Christ by which that wrath was removed, has been perverted\ninto a belief in a divergence of will between God the Father and God\nthe Son, as if it was the Father's will that sinners should perish,\nthe Son's will that they should be saved; as if the Atonement\nconsisted in the propitiation of the wrathful God by the substituted\npunishment of the innocent for the guilty. It will be seen that while\nthis statement seems to represent the Catholic doctrine, in reality it\nintroduces a most vital difference. There can be no divergence of will\nbetween the Persons of the Blessed Trinity; and, in regard to this\nspecial dealing with man, we have the clearest testimony of Revelation\nthat the whole Godhead shared in the work. Here, as always, God the\nFather is revealed as the source and origin of all good. 'God so loved\nthe world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth\nin Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.' 'God was in\nChrist reconciling the world to Himself.' The beginning and the end of\nthe Atonement is the love of God: the death of Christ was not the\ncause, but the revelation of that love[241]. That it was the second\nPerson of the Trinity who was actually the means of our redemption may\nbe ascribed to that original relation of the Logos to the human race,\nby which He was both its Creator and its perfect exemplar[242]. But\nnothing can be further from the truth than to imagine that His was all\nthe love which saved us, the Father's all the wrath which condemned\nus. If the death of Christ was necessary to propitiate the wrath of\nthe Father, it was necessary to propitiate His own wrath also; if it\nmanifested His love, it manifested the Father's love also. The\nabsolute, unbroken, unity of will between the Father and the Son is\nthe secret of the atoning sacrifice.\n\nAgain, the isolation of the truth of the Atonement from other parts of\nChristian doctrine has led to a mode of stating it which deprives us\nof all motive to action, of all responsibility for our own salvation.\nJust as the misconception noticed above arose from a failure to grasp\nthe whole truth of our Lord's Divinity, so this error springs from\nignoring His perfect Humanity. Christ is regarded as having no vital\nor real relation to us, and His work is therefore wholly external, a\nmere gift from above. But what has already been said will shew that\nfrom the first the Atonement has been taught as the offering of our\nspiritual Head, in Whom we are redeemed, and whose example we are able\nto follow as having Him in us. Salvation is thus given to us indeed,\nbut it is given to us because we are in Christ, and we have to work\nout our share in it because of the responsibility, the call to\nsacrifice which that union with Him lays upon us. 'Work out your own\nsalvation with fear and trembling, for it is God which worketh in you\nboth to will and to do.' It is all from God and of God; but God has\ncome into our life, and taken us up into Him, and called upon us to\nfollow Him in the way of the cross.\n\nAnd this leads us to consider another error, or rather another form of\nthe same error. Nothing is more common than to hear the doctrine of\nAtonement stated as if the work of Christ consisted in His endurance\nof our punishment in order that we might not endure it. This view of\nthe doctrine leads to the objections--perhaps the commonest of all the\ndifficulties found in what men take for Christianity--that the\npunishment of the innocent instead of the guilty is unjust, and that\npunishment cannot be borne by anyone but the sinner. We have seen that\nthe real vicariousness of our Lord's work lay in the offering of the\nperfect sacrifice: the theory we are now considering holds, on the\ncontrary, that it lay in the substitution of His punishment for ours.\nA partial truth is contained in this theory; for our Lord did endure\nsufferings, and, as has been already said, they were the very\nsufferings which are, in sinners, the penalties of sin. But as a\nsimple matter of fact and experience, the sufferings and the pains of\ndeath which He endured have not been remitted to us; and that which is\nremitted, the eternal penalty of alienation from God, was not, could\nnot be endured by Him. For alienation from God is, essentially, a\nstate of sin; it is sin, regarded both in its origin and in its\nnecessary result. It could not, therefore, be borne by Christ, 'in\nWhom was no sin,' between Whom and the Father was no alienation.\nAttempts have been made to establish a quantitative relation between\nour Lord's sufferings and the punishment which is thereby remitted to\nus, to prove that the eternal nature of the Sufferer made His death\nequivalent to eternal punishment. But even if such attempts, in so\nmysterious a region, could succeed, it would be vain to establish a\nquantitative equivalence where there is no qualitative relation.\nEternal punishment is 'eternal sin[243],' and as such could never be\nendured by the sinless Son of God.\n\nBut we have to face the question which naturally follows. What, then,\ndid His sufferings and death mean? Why did He endure what are to us\nthe temporal penalties, the diverse consequences of sin? And if He\nendured them, why are they not remitted to us? It is true, as has been\nshewn, that He bore just those sufferings which are the results and\npenalties of sin, even to that tremendous final experience in which\nman loses sight of God as he enters the valley of the shadow of death;\nbut He bore them, not that we might be freed from them, for we have\ndeserved them, but that we might be enabled to bear them, as He did,\nvictoriously and in unbroken union with God. He, the Innocent,\nsuffered, but the guilty do not 'go free;' for the very end and object\nof all the obedience that He learnt was, that He might lead man along\nthe same path of suffering, not 'free,' but gladly submissive to the\npains, which, but for Him, would be the overwhelming penalties of our\nsins. It may be true that 'punishment cannot be borne by anyone but\nthe sinner[244],' and therefore it may be right not to call Christ's\nsufferings punishment, especially as the expression is significantly\navoided in the New Testament. But it is certainly not true that the\nsufferings which result from sin cannot be borne by anyone but the\nsinner: every day demonstrates the falsity of such an assertion.\nSufferings borne in the wrong spirit, unsubmissively or without\nrecognition of their justice, are penal; but the spirit of humility\nand obedience makes them remedial and purgatorial. Christ, by so\nbearing the pains which sin brought upon human nature, and which the\nspecial sin of His enemies heaped upon Him, has not only offered the\none perfect sacrifice, but has also given us strength to make the same\nsubmission, to learn the same obedience and to share the same\nsacrifice.\n\n\nIV. There are many topics connected with the Atonement which it is\nimpossible here to discuss, but which seem to fall into their right\nplace and proportion if those aspects of Christ's redeeming work which\nhave been dwelt upon are kept firmly in mind. The central mystery of\nthe cross, the forgiveness, the removal of wrath, thereby freely\nbestowed upon us, remains a mystery, and must always be an insuperable\ndifficulty to those who depend wholly on reason, or who trust wholly\nin man's power to extricate himself from the destruction wrought by\nhis sin, as it was an offence to the Jew, and foolishness to the\nGreek. But mystery though it is to the intellect, there is a moral\nfitness[245] in the bestowal of forgiveness because of the obedience\nof Christ shewn in His sacrificial death, which appeals irresistibly\nto the moral consciousness of mankind. The witness of this is the\ntrustful gratitude with which the doctrine of Christ crucified has\nbeen accepted by Christians, learned and unlearned, from the age of\nits first preaching. The human heart accepts it, and by the cross is\nassured of forgiveness: 'to them which are called' it is 'Christ the\npower of God, and the wisdom of God.'\n\nBut if we may appeal to experience in support of this mysterious\ntruth, much more may we claim the same support for the plainer, more\nhuman aspect of the Atonement. As S.\u00a0Athanasius in his day[246], so we\nin ours may appeal for the practical and visible proof of the\nAtonement, to the complete change in man's relation to sorrow and\nsuffering, and in the Christian view of death[247]. This is no small\nmatter. When we realize what suffering is in human life, the vast\nplace which it has in our experience, its power of absorbing the mind,\nits culmination in the final pangs of death, and when we see the\ntransformation, however gradual and imperfect it may be, of all this\ninto the means and material of the sacrifice which the follower of\nChrist is gladly willing to offer to the Father of our Lord Jesus\nChrist, we realize the full force of the great words telling of the\ndestruction 'through death of him that _had the power of death_, that\nis the devil,' and of the deliverance of 'them who through fear of\ndeath were all their lifetime subject to bondage.' And the\ntransformation, the destruction, the deliverance, consist in this that\nfrom these sufferings His sacrifice has removed the element of\nrebellion, the hopelessness of alienation, the sting of sin. They are\nours, because they were His; but they are ours _as_ they were His,\npurified and perfected by obedience, by the offering of a holy Will;\n'by the which Will we are sanctified through the offering of the body\nof Jesus Christ once for all.'\n\n[217] Mill, _Examination of Sir W. Hamilton's Philosophy_, p. 103. 'I\nwill call no being good, who is not what I mean when I apply that\nepithet to my fellow-creatures; and if such a being can sentence me to\nhell for not so calling him, to hell I will go.'\n\n[218] Cf. Holland, _Logic and Life_, pp. 107, 108.\n\n[219] Milligan, _The Resurrection_, p. 278.\n\n[220] Cf. Mozley, _University Sermons_, p. 177 (2nd ed.): 'Justice is\na fragment, mercy is a fragment, mediation is a fragment; justice,\nmercy, mediation as a reason of mercy--all three; what indeed are they\nbut great vistas and openings into an invisible world in which is the\npoint of view which brings them all together?'\n\n[221] Cf. _Ch. Quarterly Review_, xvi. p. 289 on 'Our Lord's Human\nExample.' 'Christ, of course, had every faculty of human nature,\neverything that man sins with, and therefore every instrument or\nfaculty of sin.'\n\n[222] In the last two sentences a slight change has been made in\nconsequence of a criticism which showed that it was possible to\nmisunderstand the language originally employed, which however was\nintended to convey precisely the same meaning, and which could be\namply justified by such a passage as e.g. S.\u00a0Anselm, _Cur Deus Homo_,\nii.\u00a010, 'Possumus igitur dicere de Christo quia potuit mentiri, si\nsubaudiatur, si vellet.' Cf. also [Boetius] _c. Eutychen et\nNestorium_, c. viii. (_Opuscula Sacra_, ed. Peiper, pp. 214 ff.)\n\n[223] Cf. M\u1d9cLeod Campbell, _The Nature of the Atonement_, pp. 117,\n118, 119, 127, 347: 'That oneness of mind with the Father, which\ntowards man took the form of condemnation of sin, would in the Son's\ndealing with the Father in relation to our sins, take the form of a\nperfect confession of our sins. This confession, as to its own nature,\nmust have been _a perfect Amen in humanity to the judgment of God on\nthe sin of man_.' 'In Christ tasting death [as] the wages of sin ...\nwas a perfecting of the Divine response in humanity to the Divine\ncondemnation of sin.'\n\n[224] See Dale, _Atonement_, pp. 49 ff.; Schmidt in Herzog's _Real.\nEncykl._ xvi. 403.\n\n[225] _De Incarn. Verbi_ 4, 'Man is by nature mortal.' S.\u00a0Athanasius\nheld, however, that this 'natural corruption' would have been\nsuspended, but for the Fall, by the help of the Logos empowering man\nto live the Divine life. See on the whole subject, _The Christian\nDoctrine of Sin_, App. ii. p. 536.\n\n[226] It should be remembered that the Church has always regarded the\nAtonement as having a _retrospective_ effect, extending back to the\nfirst representatives of the human race.\n\n[227] Cf. Schmidt in Herzog's _Real. Encykl._, Art. Vers\u00f6nung, vol.\nxvi. p. 403.\n\n[228] Irenaeus is full of this thought, though it is not disentangled\nfrom other explanations of the death of Christ. Cf. especially V.\nxxiii.\u00a02: 'Recapitulans enim universum hominem in se ab initio usque\nad finem, recapitulatus et mortem ejus.' Cf. also Athanasius, _de\nIncarn. Verbi_ 9, in which he suggests that it was the Divine power of\nthe Logos in the bodily nature of Christ that made His sacrifice\nrepresentative, as well as His death victorious over death.\n\n[229] See especially Heb. ix.\u00a028, which is an echo of the LXX. of Is.\nliii.\u00a012.\n\n[230] Athan. _c. Ar._ i.\u00a043: 'He put on the flesh which was enslaved\nto sin.' Cf. also Augustine, _de Musica_ VI. iv: 'Hominem sine\npeccato, non sine peccatoris conditione suscepit. Nam et nasci\nhumanitus, et pati et mori voluit.' I owe this reference to Norris,\n_Rudiments of Theology_, p. 61 _n._\n\n[231] Heb. ii.\u00a017; vii.\u00a024, 26, 28: cf. ix.\u00a013, 14, 24, 25, 26; x.\u00a011,\n12, 13, 14.\n\n[232] Cf. Athan. _c. Ar._ ii.\u00a069: 'He sends His own Son, and He\nbecomes Son of Man, by taking created flesh; that, since all were\nunder sentence of death, He, _being other than them all_, might\nHimself for all offer to death His own body.'\n\n[233] The two aspects of the Atonement are frequently presented by\nS.\u00a0Athanasius, _de Incarn. Verbi_. Thus (ch. 10) 'By the sacrifice of\nHis own Body He _both_ put an end to the law which was against us, and\ngave us a fresh beginning of life, in that He bestowed on us the hope\nof resurrection.' Cf. also chs. 8 and 9. Again (ch. 25), 'As He\noffered His Body unto death for all; so by it He again threw open the\nway to heaven.'\n\n[234] Cf. Westcott, _Historic Faith_, p. 133.\n\n[235] Cf. Magee, _The Gospel and the Age_, pp. 270 ff. Bishop Magee,\nhowever, seems to exaggerate the certainty and relentlessness of the\ntemporal punishment of sin (cf. against this Dale, _The Atonement_,\nLect. viii) and to overlook the force of the analogy from human\nexperience of forgiveness.\n\n[236] Cf. Ath. _c. Ar._ iii.\u00a034. 'As the Lord in putting on the body,\nbecame Man, so we men are made gods by the Word, being taken into Him\nthrough His Flesh, and from henceforth inherit life eternal.'\n\n[237] For this thought fully drawn out, see Holland, _Creed and\nCharacter_, pp. 212 ff.\n\n[238] On the truth of the solidarity of all men in Christ, see\nWestcott, _The Victory of the Cross_, pp. 6-53.\n\n[239] See e.g. Moule, _Outlines of Christian Doctrine_, p. 185.\n\n[240] Cf. Aug. _de Trin._ i.\u00a010: 'Tales nos amat Deus, quales futuri\nsumus, non quales sumus.'\n\n[241] This is well stated by M\u1d9cLeod Campbell, l. c. p. 16.\n\n[242] Cf. Athan. _de Inc. passim_, esp. chs. 20 and 42. Hooker,\n_Eccles. Pol._ V. li.\u00a03, 'It seemeth a thing unconsonant that the\nworld should honour any other as the Saviour but Him Whom it honoureth\nas the Creator of the world.'\n\n[243] Cf. the true reading of S.\u00a0Mark iii.\u00a029, R.V.\n\n[244] W. R. Greg.\n\n[245] It should be noticed that the Greek Fathers and the English\ndivines for the most part confine themselves to shewing this moral\nfitness and consonance with God's moral nature in the Atonement, and\ndo not attempt to prove its absolute necessity. Cf. Athanasius, _de\nIncarn. Verbi_, ch. 6; Hooker, _Eccles. Pol._ V. li.\u00a03; Butler,\n_Analogy_, pt. ii. c.\u00a05.\n\n[246] Cf. _De Incarn. Verbi_, chs. 27, 28, 29.\n\n[247] Cf. Carlyle's apostrophe to Marie Antoinette on her way to the\nscaffold: 'Think of _Him_ Whom thou worshippest, the Crucified,--Who\nalso treading the winepress _alone_, fronted sorrow still deeper; and\ntriumphed over it, and made it Holy, and built of it a \"Sanctuary of\nSorrow\" for thee and all the wretched.' _Miscellaneous Essays_, vol.\nv. p. 165 (ed. 1872).\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\n_THE HOLY SPIRIT AND INSPIRATION._\n\nCHARLES GORE.\n\n\nI. The appeal to 'experience' in religion, whether personal or\ngeneral, brings before the mind so many associations of ungoverned\nenthusiasm and untrustworthy fanaticism, that it does not easily\ncommend itself to those of us who are most concerned to be reasonable.\nAnd yet, in one form, or another, it is an essential part of the\nappeal which Christianity makes on its own behalf since the day when\nJesus Christ met the question 'Art thou He that should come, or do we\nlook for another?' by pointing to the transforming effect of His work;\n'The blind receive their sight, and the lame walk; the lepers are\ncleansed, and the deaf hear; the dead are raised up, and the poor have\nthe Gospel preached to them.'\n\nThe fact is that in current appeals to experience the fault, where\nthere is a fault, lies not in the appeal but in the nature of the\nexperience appealed to. What is meant by the term is often an excited\nstate of feeling, rather than a permanent transformation of the whole\nmoral, intellectual, and physical being of man. Or it is something\nwhich seems individual and eccentric, or something confined to a\nparticular class of persons under special conditions of education or\nof ignorance, or something which other religions besides Christianity\nhave been conspicuous for producing. When a meaning broad and full,\nand at the same time exact enough, has been given to experience the\nappeal is essential to Christianity, because Christianity professes to\nbe not a mere record of the past, but a present life, and there is no\nlife where there is no experience.\n\nIt will be worth while, then, to bear in mind how freely the original\ndefenders of the Christian Church appealed, like their Master, to\nfacts of experience. Thus we find an individual, like S.\u00a0Cyprian,\nrecalling the time of his baptism, and the personal experience of\nillumination and power which it brought with it:--\n\n'Such were my frequent musings: for whereas I was encumbered with the\nmany sins of my past life, which it seemed impossible to be rid of, so\nI had used myself to give way to my clinging infirmities, and, from\ndespair of better things, to humour the evils of my heart, as slaves\nborn in my house, and my proper offspring. But after that life-giving\nwater succoured me, washing away the stain of former years, and\npouring into my cleansed and hallowed breast the light which comes\nfrom heaven, after that I drank in the Heavenly Spirit, and was\ncreated into a new man by a second birth,--then marvellously what\nbefore was doubtful became plain to me, what was hidden was revealed,\nwhat was dark began to shine, what was before difficult, now had a way\nand a means, what had seemed impossible, now could be achieved, what\nwas in me of the guilty flesh, now confessed that it was earthy, what\nwas quickened in me by the Holy Ghost, now had a growth according to\nGod[248].\n\nAgain, we find an apologist like S.\u00a0Athanasius, resting the stress of\nhis argument on behalf of Christ upon what He has done in the world,\nand specially on the spiritual force He exercises on masses of men,\n'drawing them to religion, persuading them to virtue, teaching them\nimmortality, leading them to the desire of heavenly things, revealing\nthe knowledge of the Father, inspiring power over death, shewing each\nman to himself, abolishing the godlessness of idolatry[249].'\n\nThe Fathers of the Christian Church appealed in this way to\nexperience, because Christianity, as they knew, is essentially not a\npast event, but a present life, a life first manifested in Christ and\nthen perpetuated in His Church. Christianity is a manifested life,--a\nthing, therefore, like all other forms of life, known not in itself\nbut in its effects, its fruits, its results. Christianity is a\nmanifested life, and it is this because it is the sphere in which the\nSpirit, the Life-giver, finds His freest and most unhindered activity.\nThe Christian Church is the scene of the intensest, the most vigorous,\nthe richest, the most 'abundant' life that the universe knows, because\nin a preeminent sense it is the 'Spirit-bearing body.' The Spirit is\nlife; that is His chief characteristic. We may indeed elucidate the\nidea of spirit by negations; by negation of materiality, of\ncircumscription, of limitation; but the positive conception we are to\nattach to spirit is the conception of life; and where life is most\npenetrating, profound, invincible, rational, conscious of God, there\nin fullest freedom of operation is the Holy Spirit[250].\n\nThus, obviously enough, the doctrine of the Spirit is no remote or\nesoteric thing; it is no mere ultimate object of the rapt\ncontemplation of the mystic; it is the doctrine of that wherein God\ntouches man most nearly, most familiarly, in common life. Last in the\neternal order of the Divine Being, 'proceeding from the Father and the\nSon,' the Holy Spirit is the first point of contact with God in the\norder of human experience[251].\n\n'I believe in the Holy Ghost, the giver of life.' All life is His\noperation. 'Wherever the Holy Spirit is, there is also life; and\nwherever life is, there is also the Holy Spirit[252].' Thus if\ncreation takes its rise in the will of the Father, if it finds its law\nin the being of the Word or Son, yet the effective instrument of\ncreation, the 'finger of God,' the moving principle of vitalization is\nthe Holy Spirit, 'the divider and distributor of the gifts of\nlife[253].'\n\nNature is one great body, and there is breath in the body; but this\nbreath is not self-originated life, it is the influence of the Divine\nSpirit. 'By the word of the Lord were the heavens made, and all the\nhost of them by the breath of His mouth.' The Spirit, the breath of\nGod, was brooding upon the face of the waters of chaos ere life and\norder were. It is the sending forth of the breath of God, which is the\ngiving to things of the gift of life; it is the withdrawal of that\nbreath which is their annihilation[254]. So keenly indeed were the\nChristians of the early period conscious of the one life of nature as\nthe universal evidence of the one Spirit, that it was a point of the\ncharge against Origen that his language seemed to involve an exclusion\nof the Holy Spirit from nature, and a limitation of His activity to\nthe Church[255]. The whole of life is certainly His. And yet, because\nHis special attribute is holiness, it is in rational natures, which\nalone are capable of holiness, that He exerts His special influence. A\nspecial in-breathing of the Divine Spirit gave to man his proper\nbeing[256]. In humanity, made after the Divine Image, it was the\noriginal intention of God that the Spirit should find His chiefest\njoy, building the edifice of a social life in which nature was to find\nits crown and justification: a life of conscious and free sonship, in\nwhich the gifts of God should be not only received, but recognised as\nHis, and consciously used in willing and glad homage to the Divine\nGiver, in reverent execution of the law of development impressed by\nthe Divine Reason, in the realized fellowship of the Blessed Spirit of\nknowledge and love. The history of humanity has in fact been a\ndevelopment, but a development the continuity of which is most\napparent in that department in which man appears simply as the child\nof nature, the most perfect and interesting of her products,\nconsciously adapting himself to his environment and moulded by it.\nThis indeed has been so much the case that the facts of the history of\ncivilization have been used, at least plausibly, as an argument\nagainst our race really possessing moral freedom at all. Such a use of\nthe facts is, we recognise, not justifiable. It leaves out of\nconsideration some of the most striking elements in human history, and\nsome of the most certain facts of human consciousness. But the very\nplausibleness of the argument is suggestive. It means that\ncomparatively very few men have been at pains to realize their true\nfreedom; that men in masses have been dominated by the mere forces of\nnature; or, in other words, that human history presents broadly the\nrecord of a one-sided, a distorted development. For man was not meant\nfor merely natural evolution, mere self-adaptation to the 'things that\nare seen.' The consciousness that he was meant for something higher\nhas tinged his most brilliant physical successes, his greatest\ntriumphs of civilization and art, with the bitterness of remorse, the\nmisery of conscious lawlessness.\n\nOur race was created for conscious fellowship with God, for sonship,\nfor the life of spirit. And it is just in this department that its\nfailure has been most conspicuous. It is here that the Divine Spirit\nhas found His chiefest disappointment. Everywhere He has found\nrebellion--not everywhere without exception, for 'in every age\nentering into holy souls, He has made them sons of God and prophets':\nbut everywhere in such a general sense that sin in fact and in its\nconsequences covers the whole region of humanity. In the highest\ndepartment of created life, where alone lawlessness was possible,\nbecause what was asked for was the co-operation of free service to\ncarry out a freely accepted ideal[257],--there alone is the record of\nlawlessness, the record of the Spirit striving with man, but resisted,\nrejected, ignored, quenched. Thus the word, which in fact most\nforcibly characterizes man's spiritual history, so far as it has been\naccording to the mind of God, is not progress, but recovery, or\nredemption. It is not natural but supernatural--supernatural, that is,\nin view of the false nature which man made for himself by excluding\nGod. Otherwise the work of redemption is only the reconstitution of\nthe nature which God designed. It is the recovery within the limits of\na chosen race and by a deliberate process of limitation, of a state of\nthings which had been intended to be universal[258]. The 'elect'\nrepresent not the special purpose of God for a few, but the universal\npurpose which under the circumstances can only be realized through a\nfew. The hedging in of the few, the drawing of the lines so close, the\nmethod of exclusion again and again renewed all down the history of\nredemption, represents the love of the Divine Spirit ever baffled in\nthe mass, preserving the truth of God in a 'remnant,' an elect body;\nwho themselves escaping the corruption which is in the world, become\nin their turn a fresh centre from which the restorative influence can\nflow out upon mankind. Rejected in the world, He secures for Himself a\nsphere of operations in the Jews, isolating Abraham, giving the law\nfor a hedge, keeping alive in the nation the sense of its vocation by\nthe inspiration of prophets. Again and again baffled in the body of\nthe Jewish nation, He falls back upon the faithful remnant, and keeps\nalive in _them_ that prospective sonship which was meant to be the\nvocation of the whole nation: sometimes in narrower, sometimes in\nbroader channels, the purpose of love moves on till the Spirit finds\nin the Son of Man, the Anointed One, the perfect realization of the\ndestiny of man, the manhood in which He can freely and fully work: 'He\ncame down upon the Son of God, made son of man, accustoming Himself in\nHis case to dwell in the human race, and to repose in man, and to\ndwell in God's creatures, working out in them the will of the Father,\nand recovering them from their old nature into the newness of\nChrist[259].' In Christ humanity is perfect, because in Him it retains\nno part of that false independence which, in all its manifold forms,\nis the secret of sin. In Christ humanity is perfect and complete, in\nungrudging and unimpaired obedience to the movement of the Divine\nSpirit, Whose creation it was, Whose organ it gave itself to be. The\nSpirit anoints Him; the Spirit drives Him into the wilderness; the\nSpirit gives Him the law of His mission; in the power of the Spirit He\nworks His miracles; in the Holy Spirit He lifts up the voice of human\nthankfulness to the Divine Father; in the Spirit He offers Himself\nwithout spot to God; in the power of the Spirit He is raised from the\ndead[260]. All that perfect human life had been a life of obedience,\nof progressive obedience, a gradual learning in each stage of\nexperience what obedience meant[261]; it had been a life of obedience\nwhich became propitiatory as it bore loyally, submissively, lovingly,\nall the heritage of pain and misery in which sin in its long history\nhad involved our manhood, all the agony of that insult and rejection\nin which sin revealed itself by antagonism to Him--bore it, and by\nbearing it turned it into the material of His accepted sacrifice. He\nwas obedient unto death. And because He thus made our human nature the\norgan of a life of perfect obedience, therefore He can go on to make\nthat same humanity, freed from all the limitations of this lower world\nand glorified in the Spirit at the right hand of God, at once the\norgan of Divine supremacy over the universe of created things, and\n(itself become quickening Spirit[262]) the fount to all the sons of\nobedience and faith of its own life. Christ is the second Adam, who\nhaving 'recapitulated the long development of humanity into\nHimself[263],' taken it up into Himself, that is, and healed its\nwounds and fructified its barrenness, gives it a fresh start by a new\nbirth from Him. The Spirit coming forth at Pentecost out of His\nuplifted manhood, as from a glorious fountain of new life[264],\nperpetuates all its richness, its power, its fulness in the organized\nsociety which He prepared and built for the Spirit's habitation. The\nChurch, His Spirit-bearing body, comes forth into the world, not as\nthe exclusive sphere of the Spirit's operations, for 'that breath\nbloweth where it listeth[265];' but as the special and covenanted\nsphere of His regular and uniform operation, the place where He is\npledged to dwell and to work; the centre marked out and hedged in,\nwhence ever and again proceeds forth anew the work of human recovery;\nthe home where, in spite of sin and imperfection, is ever kept alive\nthe picture of what the Christian life is, that is, of what common\nhuman life is meant to be and can become.\n\nOf the work of the Holy Spirit in the Church we may note four\ncharacteristics.\n\n1. It is _social_. It treats man as a 'social being,' who cannot\nrealize himself in isolation. For no other reason than because grace\nis the restoration of nature[266], the true, the redeemed humanity, is\npresented to us as a society or Church. This is apparent with\nreference to either of the gifts which summarize the essence of the\nChurch's life, grace, or truth. Sacraments are the ordained\ninstruments of grace, and sacraments are in one of their aspects\n_social_ ceremonies--of incorporation, or restoration, or bestowal of\nauthority, or fraternal sharing of the bread of life. They presuppose\na social organization. Those who have attempted to explain why there\nshould be in the Church an apostolic succession of ministers, have\nseen the grounds of such appointment in the necessity for preserving\nin a catholic society, which lacks the natural links of race or\nlanguage or common habitation, a visible and obligatory bond of\nassociation[267].\n\nThe same fact appears in reference to the truth, the knowledge of God\nand of the true nature and needs of man, which constitutes one main\npart of the Christian life. That too is no mere individual\nillumination. It is 'a rule of faith,' an 'apostolic tradition,' 'a\npattern of sound words,' embodied in Holy Scripture and perpetuated in\na teaching Church, within the scope of which each individual is to be\nbrought to have his mind and conscience fashioned by it, normally from\nearliest years. It would be going beyond the province of this essay to\nstop to prove that from the beginnings of the Christian life, a man\nwas understood to become a Christian and receive the benefits of\nredemption, by no other means than incorporation into the Christian\nsociety.\n\n2. But none the less on account of this social method _the Spirit\nnourishes individuality_. The very idea of the Spirit's gift is that\nof an intenser life. Intenser life is more individualized life, for\nour life becomes richer and fuller only by the intensification of\npersonality and character. Thus Christianity has always trusted to\nstrongly marked character as the means by which religion is\npropagated. It does not advance as an abstract doctrine, but by the\nsubtle, penetrating influences of personality. It is the illuminated\nman who becomes a centre of illumination. 'As clear transparent bodies\nif a ray of light fall on them become radiant themselves and diffuse\ntheir splendour all around, so souls illuminated by the indwelling\nSpirit are rendered spiritual themselves and impart their grace to\nothers[268].' Thus, from the first, Christianity has tended to\nintensify individual life in a thousand ways, and has gloried in the\nvarieties of disposition and character which the full life of the\nSpirit develops. The Church expects to see the same variety of life in\nherself as she witnesses in Nature.\n\n'One and the same rain,' says S.\u00a0Cyril of Jerusalem to his\ncatechumens, 'comes down upon all the world, yet it becomes white in\nthe lily, and red in the rose, and purple in the violets and pansies,\nand different and various in all the several kinds; it is one thing in\nthe palm tree and another in the vine, and all in all things. In\nitself, indeed, it is uniform and changes not, but by adapting itself\nto the nature of each thing that receives it, it becomes what is\nappropriate to each. Thus also the Holy Ghost, one and uniform and\nundivided in Himself, distributes His grace to every man as He wills.\nHe employs the tongue of one man for wisdom; the soul of another He\nenlightens by prophecy; to another He gives power to drive away\ndevils; to another He gives to interpret the Divine Scriptures; He\ninvigorates one man's self-command; He teaches another the way to give\nalms: another He teaches to fast and train himself; another He trains\nfor martyrdom; diverse to different men, yet not diverse from\nHimself[269].'\n\nNor was this belief in the differences of the Spirit's work a mere\nabstract theory. In fact the Church life of the early centuries did\npresent an aspect of great variety: not only in the dispositions of\nindividuals, for that will always be observable where human nature is\nallowed to subsist, but in the types of life and thought cultivated in\ndifferent parts of the Church. Early in the life of Christianity did\nsomething like the Roman type of Catholicism shew itself, but it\nshewed itself as one among several types of ecclesiasticism, easily\ndistinguishable from what Alexandria or Africa or Antioch nourished\nand produced.\n\nAnd what is true in the life of religion as a whole is true in the\ndepartment of the intellect. Here again the authority of the\ncollective society, the 'rule of faith,' is meant to nourish and\nquicken, not to crush, individuality. Each individual Christian owes\nthe profoundest deference to the common tradition. Thus to 'keep the\ntraditions' is at all times, and not least in Scripture, a common\nChristian exhortation. But this common tradition is not meant to be a\nmerely external law. It is meant to pass by the ordinary processes of\neducation into the individual consciousness, and there, because it\nrepresents truth, to impart freedom. Thus S.\u00a0Paul speaks of the\ndeveloped Christian, 'the man who is spiritual,' as 'judging all\nthings and himself judged of none.' And S.\u00a0John makes the ground of\nChristian certainty to lie not in an external authority, but in a\npersonal gift: 'ye have an unction from the Holy One and ye know all\nthings;' 'ye need not that any one teach you[270].' There is then an\nindividual 'inspiration[271],' as well as an inspiration of the whole\nbody, only this inspiration is not barely individual or separatist. As\nit proceeds out of the society, so it ends in it. It ends by making\neach person more individualized, more developed in personal\ncharacteristics, but for that very reason more conscious of his own\nincompleteness, more ready to recognise himself as only one member of\nthe perfect Manhood.\n\nThe idea of authority is in fact a perfectly simple one. It never\nreceived better expression than by Plato when he describes it as the\nfunction of the society by a carefully regulated education to implant\nright instincts, right affections and antipathies, in the growing mind\nof the child, at a time when he cannot know the reason of things: in\norder that as the mind develops it may recognise the right reason of\nthings by a certain inner kinship, and welcome truth as a friend[272].\nAuthority, according to such a view of it, is a necessary schooling of\nthe individual temperament. Thus, we are told that in the judgment of\nthe philosopher Hegel, 'The basis of sound education was ... the\nsubmission of the mind to an external lesson, which must be learnt by\nevery one, and even learnt by rote, with utter disregard of individual\ntastes and desires; only out of this self-abnegation, and submission\nto be guided and taught, could any originality spring which was worth\npreserving[273].' In fact, we all recognise the necessity for such\nexternal discipline in all departments. Few people like good art, for\ninstance, at first. Probably they are attracted by what is weak but\narrests attention by obvious and superficial merits. The standards\nwhich artistic authority has erected, the accepted canons of good\ntaste and judgment, do not commend themselves at first as right or\nnatural. But modest and well-disposed people take it for granted at\nstarting that the orthodox judgment will turn out to be right; and\nthey set themselves to school to learn why the artists and poets of\ngreat name are great, till their own judgment becomes enlightened, and\nthey understand what at first they took on trust. It was the\ninstinctive perception of this function of authority which made the\nChurch insist so much on the principle 'credo ut intelligam.' The\nCreed represents the catholic judgment, the highest knowledge of God\nand the spiritual life granted to man by the Divine Revelation. Let a\nman put himself to school in the Church with reverence and godly fear,\nand his own judgment will become enlightened. He will come to say with\nS.\u00a0Anselm, 'I give thee thanks, good Lord; because what first I\nbelieved by Thy gift, I now understand by Thy illumination[274].'\n\nSuch an idea of authority leaves much for the individual to do. It is\nthe reaction of the individual on the society which is to keep the\ncommon tradition pure and unnarrowed. The Church has in Holy Scripture\nthe highest expression of the mind of Christ. The familiarity of all\nits members with this flawless and catholic image is to ward off in\neach generation that tendency to deteriorate and to become\nmaterialised which belongs to all 'traditions.' The individual\nillumination is thus to react as a purifying force upon the common\nmind of the Christian society. The individual Christian is to pay the\ndebt of his education, by himself 'testing all things and holding fast\nthat which is good.' Specially gifted individuals from time to time\nwill be needed to effect more or less sudden 'reversions to type,' to\nthe undying type of apostolic teaching[275]. But such a true reformer\nis quite distinct in idea from the heretic. He reforms; he does not\ninnovate. His note is to restore; not to reject. And the absence of\nnecessity for fundamental rejection comes from this simple fact, that\nthe Christian Creed is rational and true. If any man comes to us and\nsays that he has studied and assimilated the Christian Creed with all\nthe care and reverence in his ability, and has rejected it because he\nfinds it irrational and false, we cannot complain of him[276]. We\ncannot ask him to accept it though he thinks it false. We do not at\nall complain of his having inquired and thought freely--only we\nventure to assure him, with a confidence which can hardly fail to be\nirritating, because it is confident, that he is mistaken, that he has\nthought not only freely, but erroneously. When Christianity adopts, as\nin the modern Romanist system, a different tone, proscribing free\ninquiry as 'rationalistic,' and making the appeal to antiquity, in\norder to test the present teaching of the Church, a 'treason and a\nheresy[277],' it is abjuring its own rational heritage, and adopting a\nmethod which Charles Kingsley had good reason to call Manichaean. It\nis the test of the Church's legitimate tenure that she can encourage\nfree inquiry into her title-deeds.\n\n3. Thirdly, the Spirit claims for His own, and _consecrates the whole\nof nature_. One Spirit was the original author of all that is; and all\nthat exists is in its essence very good. It is only sin which has\nproduced the appearance of antagonism between the Divine operation and\nhuman freedom, or between the spiritual and the material. Thus the\nhumanity of Christ, which is the Spirit's perfect work, exhibits in\nits perfection how every faculty of human nature, spiritual and\nphysical, is enriched and vitalized, not annihilated, by the closest\nconceivable interaction of the Divine Energy. This principle, as\ncarried out in the Church, occupies a prominent place in the earliest\ntheology; in part because Montanism, with its pagan idea of\ninspiration, as an ecstasy which deprived its subject of reason, gave\nthe Church an opportunity of emphasizing that the fullest action of\nthe Spirit, in the case of her inspired men, intensified and did not\nsupersede their own thought, judgment, and individuality; still more\nbecause Gnostic dualism, turning every antithesis of nature and grace,\nof spirit and flesh, of natural and supernatural, into an antagonism,\nforced upon the Church the assertion of her own true and comprehensive\nCreed. That everything in Christianity is realized 'in flesh as in\nspirit' is the constantly reiterated cry of S.\u00a0Ignatius, who of all\nmen was most 'spiritual.' That the spiritual is not the immaterial,\nthat we become spiritual not by any change or curtailment of nature,\nnot by any depreciation or ignoring of the body, is the constantly\nasserted principle of S.\u00a0Irenaeus[278]. And the earliest writers in\ngeneral emphasize the visible organization of the Church, and the\ninstitution of external sacraments, as negations of the false\nprinciple which would sunder nature from God, and repudiate the unity\nof the material and the spiritual which the Word had been made Flesh\nin order to reveal and to perpetuate.\n\n4. But the unity of the spirit and the flesh, of faith and experience,\nof God and the world, is certainly not an accomplished fact. On the\ncontrary, dualism is always making appeals which strike home to our\npresent experience. Thus if the Church was to maintain the unity of\nall things, it could only be by laying great stress upon the ravages\nwhich sin had wrought, and upon _the gradualness of the Spirit's\nmethod_ in recovery. The Old Testament, for example, presented a most\nunspiritual appearance. Its material sacrifices, its low standard of\nmorals, its worldliness, were constantly being objected to by the\nGnostic and Manichaean sects, who could not tolerate the Old Testament\ncanon. 'But you are ignoring,' the Church replied, 'the gradualness of\nthe Spirit's method.' He lifts man by little and little, He\ncondescends to man's infirmity: He puts up with him as he is, if only\nHe can at the last bring him back to God.\n\nIt is of the essence of the New Testament, as the religion of the\nIncarnation, to be final and catholic: on the other hand, it is of the\nessence of the Old Testament to be imperfect because it represents a\ngradual process of education by which man was lifted out of depths of\nsin and ignorance. That this is the case, and that in consequence the\njustification of the Old Testament method lies not in itself at any\nparticular stage, but in its result taken as a whole, is a thought\nvery familiar to modern Christians[279]. But it is important to make\nplain that it was a thought equally familiar to the Fathers of the\nChristian Church. Thus S.\u00a0Gregory of Nazianzus, speaking of God's\ndealings with the Jews of old, describes how, in order to gain the\nco-operation of man's good will in working for his recovery, He dealt\n'after the manner of a schoolmaster or a physician, and while\ncurtailing part of their ancestral customs, tolerated the rest, making\nsome concession to their tastes, just as physicians make their\nmedicines palatable that they may be taken by their patients. For men\ndo not easily abandon what long custom has consecrated. Thus the first\nlaw, while it abolished their idols, tolerated their sacrifices; the\nsecond, while it abolished their sacrifices, allowed them to be\ncircumcised: then when once they had accepted the removal of what was\ntaken from them, they went further and gave up what had been conceded\nto them--in the first case their sacrifices, in the second their\npractice of circumcision--and they became instead of heathens, Jews,\ninstead of Jews, Christians, being betrayed as it were by gradual\nchanges into acceptance of the Gospel[280].' Again, S.\u00a0Chrysostom\nexplains how it is the very merit of the Old Testament that it has\ntaught us to think things intolerable, which under it were tolerated.\n'Do not ask,' he says, 'how these (Old Testament precepts) can be\ngood, now when the need for them is past: ask how they were good when\nthe period required them. Or rather, if you wish, do inquire into\ntheir merit even now. It is still conspicuous, and lies in nothing so\nmuch as what now enables us to find fault with them. Their highest\npraise is that we now see them to be defective. If they had not\ntrained us well, so that we became susceptible of higher things, we\nshould not have now seen their deficiency.' Then he shews how under\nthe old law swearing by the true God was allowed to avoid swearing by\nidols, the worse ill. 'But is not swearing at all of the evil one?' he\nasks. 'Undoubtedly, now, after this long course of training, but then\nnot. And how can the same thing be good at one time and bad at\nanother? I ask rather, how should it not be so, when we have regard to\nthe plain teaching of the fact of growth in all things, fruits of the\nearth or acquirements of man? Look at man's own nature; the food, the\noccupations which suit his infancy, are repulsive to his manhood. Or\nconsider facts of history. All agree that murder is an invention of\nSatan, yet this very act at a suitable time made Phineas to be\nhonoured with the high priesthood. Phineas' murder \"was reckoned to\nhim for righteousness.\" Just in the same way Abraham obtained an even\nhigher honour for being not a murderer only but what was much worse, a\nchild-murderer. We must not then look at the facts in themselves only,\nbut investigate with attention the period also, the cause, the motive,\nthe difference of persons, and all the attendant circumstances: so\nonly can one get at the truth[281].'\n\nOnce more S.\u00a0Basil: 'Surely it is absolutely infantile and worthy of a\nchild who must be really fed on milk, to be ignorant of the great\nmystery of our salvation--that just as we received our earliest\ninstruction, so, in exercising unto godliness and going on unto\nperfection, we were first trained by lessons easy to apprehend and\nsuited to our intelligence. He Who regulates our lives deals with us\nas those who have been reared in darkness, and gradually accustoms our\neyes to the light of truth. For He spares our weakness, and in the\ndepth of the riches of His wisdom and the unsearchable judgments of\nHis understanding adopts this gentle treatment, so well adapted to our\nneeds, accustoming us first to see the shadow of objects, and to look\nat the sun's reflection in water, so that we may not be suddenly\nblinded by the exposure to the pure light. By parity of reasoning, the\nlaw being a shadow of things to come, and the typical teaching of the\nprophets, which is the truth darkly, have been devised as exercises\nfor the eyes of the heart, inasmuch as it will be easy for us to pass\nfrom these to wisdom hidden in mystery[282].'\n\nIn the same spirit was the Church's answer to the difficulties which\nfacts of personal experience were constantly putting in the way of her\nclaims. Churchmen were frequently seen to be vulgar, ignorant,\nimperfect, sinful. If, in spite of manifold evils existing within her,\nthe Church could still appeal to her fruits, it must be by comparison\nwith what was to be found elsewhere, or by taking in a large area for\ncomparison, or by appealing to her special grounds of hope. In fact,\nwhat she represented was a hope, not a realization; a tendency, not a\nresult; a life in process, not a ripened fruit. But then she claimed\nthat this was God's way. 'He loves us not as we are, but as we are\nbecoming[283].' Let but a man once lay hold of the life-giving\nprinciple of faith, and God sets a value on him, life has a promise\nfor him, altogether out of proportion to present attainments. For God\nestimates him, in view of all the forces of a new life which are set\nloose to work upon him, and he can assure himself that the movement of\nrecovery which he has begun to feel stirring within him will carry him\non through eternal ages, beyond what he can ask or think.\n\nIt is because of this gradualness of the Spirit's method that it lays\nso great a strain on human patience. The spiritually-minded of all\nages have tended to find the visible Church a very troubled and\nimperfect home. Most startling disclosures of the actual state of\necclesiastical disorder and moral collapse, may be gathered out of the\nChristian Fathers. Thus to found a 'pure Church' has been the instinct\nof impatient zeal since Tertullian's day. But the instinct has to be\nrestrained, the visible Church has to be borne with, because it is the\nSpirit's purpose to provide a home for the training and improvement of\nthe imperfect. 'Let both grow together unto the harvest.' 'A bruised\nreed will He not break, and smoking flax will He not quench.' The\nChurch must have her terms of communion, moral and intellectual: this\nis essential to keep her fundamental principles intact, and to prevent\nher betraying her secret springs of strength and recovery. But short\nof this necessity she is tolerant. It is her note to be tolerant,\nmorally and theologically. She is the mother, not the magistrate. No\ndoubt her balanced duty is one difficult to fulfil. At times she has\nbeen puritanical, at others morally lax; at times doctrinally lax, at\nothers rigid. But however well or ill she has fulfilled the\nobligations laid on her, this is her ideal. She is the guardian, the\ndepository of a great gift, a mighty presence, which in its essence is\nunchanging and perfect, but is realized very imperfectly in her\nexperience and manifested life. This is what S.\u00a0Thomas Aquinas means\nwhen he says 'that to believe _in_ the Church is only possible if we\nmean by it to believe in the Spirit vivifying the Church[284].' The\ntrue self of the Church is the Holy Spirit, but a great deal in the\nChurch at any date does not belong to her true self, and is obscuring\nthe Spirit's mind. Thus the treasure is in earthen vessels, it is\nsometimes a light hid under a bushel; and the Church is the probation\nof faith, as well as its encouragement.\n\nIt will not be out of place to conclude this review of the Spirit's\nmethod in the Church by calling attention to the emphasis which, from\nthe first, Christians laid upon the fact that the animating principle\nboth of their individual lives and of their society as a whole, was\nnothing less than the Holy Spirit Himself. To know Him was (as against\nall the philosophical schools, and in a sense in which the same could\nnot be said even of the Divine Word) their peculiar privilege, to\npossess Him their summary characteristic. Under the old covenant, and\nin all the various avenues of approach to the Church, men could be the\nsubjects of the Spirit's guidance and could be receiving gifts from\nHim; but the 'initiated' Christian, baptized and confirmed, possessed\nnot merely His gifts but Himself. He is in the Church, as the 'Vicar\nof Christ,' in Whose presence Christ Himself is with them. He is the\nconsecrator of every sacrament, and the substance of His own\nsacramental gifts. The services of ordained men indeed are required\nfor the administration of sacraments, but as ministers simply of a\nPower higher than themselves, of a Personal Spirit Who indeed is\ninvoked by their ministry, and pledges Himself to respond to their\ninvocations, but never subjects Himself to their power. Therefore the\nunworthiness of the minister diminishes in no way the efficacy of the\nsacrament, or the reality of the gift given, because the ministry of\nmen neither creates the gift nor adds to or diminishes its force. He\nis the giver of the gift, and the gift He gives is the same to all.\nOnly the meagreness of human faith and love restrains the largeness of\nHis bounty and conditions the Thing received by the narrowness and\nvariability of the faculty which receives it. According to our faith\nis it done to us, and where there is no faith and no love there the\ngrace is equally, in S.\u00a0Augustine's phrase, present and\nprofitless[285].\n\n\nII. In something of this way the early Christian writers--and it has\nseemed better to let them speak for us--teach the doctrine of the Holy\nSpirit. What they teach is grounded in part on actual experience, in\npart on the revelation of the being and action of God made once for\nall in the Person of Jesus Christ and recorded in the New Testament.\nOn this mingled basis of experience and Holy Scripture they passed\nback from the doctrine of the Holy Spirit as He is operative in the\nworld, to the Theology of His Person. They passed back but slowly,\nwith great hesitation, even unwillingness. Nothing, we may say, was\nfurther removed from the Fathers than the easy-going assumption that\nbecause we are the subjects of a revelation, therefore we are able to\nspeculate with tolerably complete information about the mysteries\nwhich lie beyond experience. The truth that 'we know in part,' we see\n'in a glass darkly,' was profoundly impressed upon their minds. God\nmanifested Himself, S.\u00a0Gregory of Nazianzus tells, in such a way as to\nescape the nets of our syllogisms, and to shew Himself superior to our\nlogical distinctions. If we expect to find our logic equal to express\nHim, we shew only our mad presumption, 'we who are not able even to\nknow what lies at our feet, or to count the waves of the sea, or the\ndrops of rain, or the days of the world, much less to fathom the\ndepths of God, and give account of His nature which transcends alike\nour reason and our power of expression[286].' Besides this, the early\ntheologians realized the obligation of keeping to Holy Scripture--of\nnot being wise 'above that which is written'--and they were conscious\nof the danger of building on isolated texts of Scripture or of\ntreating its 'simple and untechnical' language as if it was the\nlanguage of a formal treatise[287].\n\nFor these reasons they were cautious in theological speculation. Yet\nthe facts and relationships introduced into the world of experience by\nthe revelation of the Son represent eternal realities, if under great\nlimitations yet still truly, and thus make possible a real security up\nto a certain point on what lies beyond the unassisted human knowledge.\nThus, first, when the Arian movement passed from the denial of the\ntrue Godhead of Christ to a similar position with reference to the\nHoly Spirit, the Christian Church felt itself fully justified alike by\nits past traditions[288], and by its Scriptures, in emphasizing the\npersonal distinctness and the true Godhead of the Holy Spirit. Unless\nall Christ's language was an illusion, the Holy Spirit was really\npersonal and really distinct from Himself and the Father; nor could\nOne who was associated with the Father and the Son in all the\nessentially Divine operations of nature and grace, be less than truly\nand really God, an essential element in the Eternal Being. The Arian\ncontroversy in its earlier stages had disposed of the notion that\nChristian theology could at any cost admit the conception of a created\npersonality, clothed with Divine attributes and exercising Divine\nfunctions.\n\nSecondly, the consideration that the relations manifested in the\nIncarnation in terms of our experience between the Father, the Son,\nand the Holy Ghost, express transcendent and eternal relations, led\nthe Church to speak of the Holy Ghost as proceeding from the Father,\nas the unique fount of Godhead, through the Son: or in somewhat less\nnicely discriminated language 'from the Father and the Son[289].' In\nthe fifth century there is a tendency to use in the East the former,\nin the West the latter mode of expression, but without any essential\ndifference. Nor can it be said that the causes which were at work\nlater to divide the Eastern and the Western Churches on the subject of\nthe procession of the Holy Ghost, were so much really theological as\necclesiastical and political.\n\nThirdly, the accurate consideration of the language in which is\nexpressed the relation of Christ to the Holy Spirit, helped the Church\nto guard the doctrine of the Trinity from the associations of\nTritheism. For the coming of the Holy Spirit is clearly spoken of in\nHoly Scripture as coincident with and involving the coming of Christ.\n'While we are illuminated by the Holy Spirit, it is Christ who\nilluminates us: when we drink in the Spirit, it is Christ we drink.'\nThe Spirit is distinct from Christ--'another Paraclete'--yet in His\ncoming, Christ comes: in His indwelling is the indwelling of the\nFather and the Son[290]. How can this be? Because the 'Persons' of the\nHoly Trinity are not to be thought of as distinct individuals, as\nthree Gods. No doubt in our ordinary language, persons are understood\nto be separate, and mutually exclusive beings. Even in regard to\nourselves deeper reflection shews us that our personalities are very\nfar from being as separate as they appear to be on the surface: and\nwith regard to God, it was only with an expressed apology for the\nimperfection of human language that the Church spoke of the Divine\nThree, as Three _Persons_ at all. But 'we have no celestial language,'\nand the word is the only one which will express what Christ's language\nimplies about Himself, the Father, and the Spirit. Only while we use\nit, it must be understood to express mutual inclusion, not mutual\nexclusion.\n\nWherever the Father works, He works essentially and inevitably through\nthe Son and the Spirit; whenever the Son acts, He acts from the Father\nby the Holy Spirit; whenever the Holy Spirit comes, He brings with Him\nin His coming the Son and the Father. Thus when an image was necessary\nto interpret in part the Divine relationships, the Fathers sought it\nnowhere so much as in the three distinct yet inseparable elements of\nman's spiritual nature; the triune character of which Plato had\nalready brought into notice, and which is in fact an earthly image,\nhowever inadequate, of the Triune God[291].\n\n\nIII. Hitherto nothing has been said about that part of the Holy\nSpirit's work which is called the inspiration of Scripture. It has\nbeen kept to the last because of the great importance of putting it in\ncontext with less familiar truths. The Scriptures have, it is a\ncommonplace to say, suffered greatly from being isolated. This is as\ntrue whether we are considering them as a source of evidence or as the\nsphere of inspiration.\n\nAs a source of evidence they contain the record of historical facts\nwith some of which at any rate the Creed of Christendom is inseparably\ninterwoven. Thus it is impossible for Christians who know what they\nare about, to depreciate the importance of the historical evidence for\nthose facts at least of which the Creed contains a summary. But the\ntendency with books of historical evidence has been, at least till\nrecently, to exaggerate the extent to which the mere evidence of\nremote facts can compel belief. What we should make of the New\nTestament record, what estimate we should be able to form of the\nPerson of Jesus Christ and the meaning of His life and work, if it was\ncontained simply in some old manuscripts, or unearthed in some way by\nantiquaries out of the Syrian sand, it is impossible to say. In order\nto have grounds for believing the facts, in order to be susceptible of\ntheir evidence, we require an antecedent state of conception and\nexpectation. A whole set of presuppositions about God, about the\nslavery of sin, about the reasonableness of redemption, must be\npresent with us. So only can the facts presented to us in the Gospel\ncome to us as credible things, or as parts of an intelligible\nuniverse, correlated elements in a rational whole. Now the work of the\nSpirit in the Church has been to keep alive and real these\npresuppositions, this frame of mind. He convinces of sin, of\nrighteousness, of judgment. He does this not merely in isolated\nindividuals however numerous, but in an organized continuous society.\nThe spiritual life of the Church assures me that in desiring union\nwith God, in feeling the burden of sin, in hungering for redemption, I\nam not doing an eccentric, abnormal thing. I am doing only what\nbelongs to the best and richest movement of humanity. More than this,\nit assures me that assent to the claims and promises of Jesus Christ\nsatisfies these spiritual needs in such a way as to produce the\nstrongest, the most lasting, the most catholic sort of human\ncharacter. The historical life of the Church thus in every age\n'setting to its seal' that God's offer in Christ is true, reproduces\nthe original 'witness,' commends it to conscience and reason, spans\nthe gulf of the ages, and brings down remote and alien incidents into\nclose and intelligible familiarity. Lotze speaks of revelation as\n'either contained in some divine act of historic occurrence, or\ncontinually repeated in men's hearts[292].' But in fact the antithesis\nis not an alternative. The strength of the Christian Creed is that it\nis both. It is a revelation continuously renewed in men's hearts by an\norganized and systematic operation of the Spirit in the Church, while\nat the same time it finds its guarantee and security in certain Divine\nacts of historic occurrence.\n\nOnce more, the belief in the Holy Scriptures as inspired requires to\nbe held in context by the belief in the general action of the Holy\nSpirit upon the Christian society and the individual soul. It is, we\nmay perhaps say, becoming more and more difficult to believe in the\nBible without believing in the Church. The Apostles, indeed,--and the\nNew Testament canon consists largely of the words of Apostles--have an\nauthority which, reasonably considered, is unique, and stands by\nitself as that of the accredited witnesses of Christ; but when we find\nthem appealing to members of the Church, they appeal not as the\npossessors of an absolute authority or of a Spirit in which others do\nnot share. They are the ministers of a 'tradition' to which they\nthemselves are subject, a tradition 'once for all delivered[293]:'\nthey appeal to those who hear them as men 'who have an unction from\nthe Holy One and know all things.' The tone in fact of the apostolic\nwriters forces us to regard the spirit in which the Church lives, as\nco-operating with, and in a real sense limiting, the spirit in which\nthey themselves speak and write. Thus in fact the apostolic writings\nwere written as occasion required, within the Church, and for the\nChurch. They presuppose membership in it and familiarity with its\ntradition. They are secondary, not primary, instructors; for\nedification, not for initiation. Nor, in fact, can a hard and fast\nline be drawn between what lies within and what lies without the\ncanon. For example, Protestantism of an unecclesiastical sort has\nbuilt upon the Epistle to the Hebrews as much as upon any book of the\nNew Testament. This book is of unknown authorship. If 'Pauline' it is\npretty certainty not S.\u00a0Paul's. In large part it is the judgment of\nthe Church which enables us to draw a line between it and S.\u00a0Clement's\n'scripture.' The line indeed our own judgment approves. The Epistle to\nthe Hebrews and S.\u00a0Clement's letter are closely linked together, but\nthe latter depends on the former: it is secondary and the other is\nprimary. Yet how narrow is the historical interval between them. How\nimpossible to tear the one from the other. How seemingly irrational to\nattribute absolute authority to the anonymous Epistle to the Hebrews\nwhich represents apostolic teaching at second hand[294], and then to\ninterpret it in a sense hostile to the Epistle of Clement, which\nrepresents exactly the same stream of apostolic teaching only one\nshort stage lower down. For Clement interprets the high priesthood of\nChrist in a sense which, instead of excluding, makes it the basis of,\nthe ministerial hierarchy of the Church. Or to put the matter more\nbroadly, how irrational it is, considering the intimate links by which\nthe New Testament canon is bound up with the historic Church, not to\naccept the mind of the Church, especially when we have its consent\ndown independent lines of tradition, as interpreting the mind of the\napostolic writers. Most rational surely is the attitude of the early\nChurch towards Scripture. The Scripture was regarded as the highest\nutterance of the Spirit, the unique and constant test of the Church's\nlife and teaching. But the Spirit in the Church interpreted the\nmeaning of Scripture. Thus the Church taught and the Scripture tested\nand verified or corrected her teaching: and this because all was of\none piece, the life of the Church including the Scriptures, the\ninspired writers themselves appealing to the Spirit in the\nChurches[295].\n\nAnd now, what is to be said about this, at present, much controverted\nsubject of the inspiration of Holy Scripture? What does the doctrine\nimply, and what attitude does belief in it involve towards the modern\ncritical treatment of the inspired literature?\n\n1. Let us bear carefully in mind the place which the doctrine holds in\nthe building up of a Christian faith. It is in fact an important part\nof the superstructure, but it is not among the _bases_ of the\nChristian belief. The Christian creed asserts the reality of certain\nhistorical facts. To these facts, in the Church's name, we claim\nassent: but we do so on grounds which, so far, are quite independent\nof the _inspiration_ of the evangelic records. All that we claim to\nshew at this stage is that they are historical: not historical so as\nto be absolutely without error, but historical in the general sense,\nso as to be trustworthy. All that is necessary for faith in Christ is\nto be found in the moral dispositions which predispose to belief, and\nmake intelligible and credible the thing to be believed: coupled with\nsuch acceptance of the generally historical character of the Gospels,\nand of the trustworthiness of the other apostolic documents, as\njustifies belief that our Lord was actually born of the Virgin Mary,\nmanifested as the Son of God 'with power according to a spirit of\nholiness,' crucified, raised again the third day from the dead,\nexalted to the right hand of the Father, the founder of the Church and\nthe source to it of the informing Spirit.\n\nIn all this no claim is made for any special belief as to the method\nof the Spirit's work in the Scripture or in the Church. Logically such\nbelief follows, does not precede, belief in Christ. Indeed, in the\npast, Christian apologists have made a great mistake in allowing\nopponents to advance as objections against the historical character of\nthe Gospel narrative, what are really objections not against its\nhistorical character--not such as could tell against the substantially\nhistorical character of secular documents--but against a certain view\nof the meaning of inspiration. Let it be laid down then that\nChristianity brings with it indeed a doctrine of the inspiration of\nHoly Scriptures, but is not based upon it[296].\n\n2. But such a doctrine it does bring with it. Our Lord and His\nApostles are clearly found to believe and to teach that the Scriptures\nof the Old Testament were given by inspiration of God; and the\nChristian Church from the earliest days postulated the same belief\nabout the Scriptures of the New Testament. To disbelieve that 'the\nScriptures were spoken by the Holy Ghost,' was equivalent to being 'an\nunbeliever[297].'\n\nThus, when once a man finds himself a believer in Christ, he will find\nhimself in a position where alike the authority of his Master and the\n'communis sensus' of the society he belongs to, give into his hand\ncertain documents and declare them inspired.\n\n3. What in its general idea does this mean?\n\nS.\u00a0Athanasius expresses the function of the Jews in the world in a\nluminous phrase, when he describes them as having been the 'sacred\nschool for all the world of the knowledge of God and of the spiritual\nlife[298].' Every race has its special vocation, and we recognise in\nthe great writers of each race the interpreters of that vocation. They\nare specially gifted individuals, but not merely individuals. The race\nspeaks in them: Rome is interpreted by Virgil, and Greece by Aeschylus\nor Plato. Now every believer in God must see in these special missions\nof races, a Divine inspiration. If we can once get down to the bottom\nof human life, below its pride, its wilfulness, its pretentiousness,\ndown to its essence, we get to God and to a movement of His\nSpirit[299]. Thus every race has its inspiration and its prophets.\n\nBut the inspiration of the Jews was supernatural. What does this mean?\nThat the Jews were selected--not to be the school for humanity in any\nof the arts and sciences which involve the thought of God only\nindirectly, and can therefore be carried on without a fundamental\nrestoration of man into that relation to God which sin had clouded or\nbroken,--but to be the school of that fundamental restoration itself.\nTherefore, in the case of the Jews the inspiration is both in itself\nmore direct and more intense, and also involves a direct consciousness\non the part of its subjects. In the race, indeed, the consciousness\nmight be dim; but the consciousness, as the prophets all assure us,\ndid belong to the race, and not merely to its individual interpreters.\nThey speak as recalling the people to something which they know, or\nought to know, not as preachers of a new religion. They were 'the\nconscience of the state[300].' But special men, prophets, psalmists,\nmoralists, historians, were thus the inspired interpreters of the\nDivine message to and in the race: and their inspiration lies in this,\nthat they were the subjects of a movement of the Holy Ghost, so\nshaping, controlling, quickening their minds and thoughts and\naspirations, as to make them the instruments through which was\nimparted 'the knowledge of God and of the spiritual life.'\n\nVarious are the degrees of this inspiration: the inspiration of the\nprophet is direct, continuous, absorbing. The inspiration of the\nwriter of Ecclesiastes, on the other hand, is such as to lead him to\nponder on all the phases of a worldly experience, passing through many\na false conclusion, and cynical denial, till at the last his thought\nis led to unite itself to the great stream of Divine movement by\nfinding the only possible solution of the problems of life in the\nrecognition of God, and in obedience to Him.\n\nVarious also are the sorts of literature inspired: for the\nsupernatural fertilizes and does not annihilate the natural. The\nChurch repudiated the Montanist conception of inspiration, according\nto which the inspired man speaks in ecstasy, as the passive\nunconscious instrument of the Spirit; and the metaphors which would\ndescribe the Holy Spirit as acting upon a man 'like a flute player\nbreathing into his flute,' or 'a plectrum striking a lyre,' have\nalways a suspicion of heresy attaching to their use[301]. As the\nhumanity of Christ is none the less a true humanity for being\nconditioned by absolute oneness with God, so the human activity is\nnone the less free, conscious, rational, because the Spirit inspires\nit. The poet is a poet, the philosopher a philosopher, the historian\nan historian, each with his own idiosyncrasies, ways, and methods, to\nbe interpreted each by the laws of his own literature. And just as\ntruly as physiology, in telling us more and more about the human body,\nis telling us about the body which the Son of God assumed, so with the\ngrowth of our knowledge about the kinds and sequences of human\nliterature, shall we know more and more about the literature of the\nJews which the Holy Spirit inspired.\n\nWhat then is meant by the inspiration of Holy Scripture? If we begin\nour inquiry with the account of creation with which the Bible opens,\nwe may take note of its affinities in general substance with the\nBabylonian and Phoenician cosmogonies; but we are much more struck\nwith its differences, and it is in these we shall look for its\ninspiration. We observe that it has for its motive and impulse not the\nsatisfaction of a fantastic curiosity, or the later interest of\nscientific discovery, but to reveal certain fundamental religious\nprinciples: that everything as we see it was made by God: that it has\nno being in itself but at God's will: on the other hand, that\neverything is in its essence good, as the product of the good God:\nthat man, besides sharing the physical nature of all creation, has a\nspecial relation to God, as made in God's image, to be God's\nvice-gerent: that sin, and all that sin brings with it of misery and\ndeath, came not of man's nature but of his disobedience to God and\nrejection of the limitations under which He put him: that in spite of\nall that sin brought about, God has not left man to himself, that\nthere is a hope and a promise. These are the fundamental principles of\ntrue religion and progressive morality, and in these lies the\nsupernatural inspiration of the Bible account of creation[302].\n\nAs we pass on down the record of Genesis, we do not find ourselves in\nany doubt as to the primary and certain meaning of its inspiration.\nThe first traditions of the race are all given there _from a special\npoint of view_. In that point of view lies the inspiration. It is that\neverything is presented to us as illustrating God's dealings with\nman--God's judgment on sin: His call of a single man to work out a\nuniversal mission: His gradual delimitation of a chosen race: His care\nfor the race: His over-ruling of evil to work out His purpose. The\nnarrative of Genesis has all the fullest wealth of human interest, but\nit is in the unveiling of the hand of God that its special\ncharacteristic lies. As we go on into the history, we find the\nrecorders acting like the recorders of other nations, collecting,\nsorting, adapting, combining their materials, but in this\ninspired--that the animating motive of their work is not to bring out\nthe national glory or to flatter the national vanity, nor, like the\nmotive of a modern historian, the mere interest in fact, but to keep\nbefore the chosen people the record of how God has dealt with them.\nThis, as we perceive, gives them a special sense of the value of\nfact[303]. They record what God has done, how God did in such and such\nways take action on behalf of His peculiar people, delivering them,\npunishing them, teaching them, keeping them, disciplining them for\nhigher ends. And none who have eyes to see God's spiritual purposes\ncan doubt that those historians read aright the chronicles of the\nkings of Israel. The spiritual significance which they see is the true\nsignificance. God's special purpose was on Israel.\n\nIt is not necessary to emphasize in what consists the special\ninspiration of psalmists or of prophets. The psalmists take some of\nthe highest places among the poets of all nations, but the poetic\nfaculty is directed to one great end, to reveal the soul in its\nrelation to God, in its exultations and in its self-abasements. 'Where\n... did they come from, those piercing lightning-like gleams of\nstrange spiritual truth, those magnificent out-looks upon the kingdom\nof God, those raptures at His presence and His glory, those wonderful\ndisclosures of self-knowledge, those pure out-pourings of the love of\nGod? Surely here is something more than the mere working of the mind\nof man. Surely ... they repeat the whispers of the Spirit of God, they\nreflect the very light of the Eternal Wisdom[304].'\n\nIn the case of prophets once more we get the most obvious and typical\ninstances of inspiration[305]. The prophets make a direct claim to be\nthe instruments of the Divine Spirit. Not that the Divine Spirit\nsupersedes their human faculties, but He intensifies them. They see\ndeeper under the surface of life what God is doing, and therefore\nfurther into the future what He will do. No doubt their predictive\nknowledge is general, it is of the issue to which things tend. It is\nnot at least usually a knowledge 'of times and of seasons which the\nFather hath put in His own power.' Thus at times they foreshorten the\ndistance, and place the great deliverance and the 'day of Jehovah' in\nthe too immediate foreground[306]. The prophetic inspiration is thus\nconsistent with erroneous anticipations as to the circumstances and\nthe opportunity of God's self-revelation, just as the apostolic\ninspiration admitted of S.\u00a0Paul expecting the second coming of Christ\nwithin his own life-time. But the prophets claim to be directly and\nreally inspired to teach and interpret what God is doing and\ncommanding in their own age, and to forecast what in judgment and\nredemptive mercy God means to do and must do in the Divine event. The\nfigure of the king Messiah dawns upon their horizon with increasing\ndefiniteness of outline and characteristic, and we, with the\nexperience of history between us and them, are sure that the\ncorrespondence of prophecy and fulfilment can be due to no other cause\nthan that they spoke in fact the 'word of the Lord.'\n\nThus there is built up for us in the literature of a nation, marked by\nan unparalleled unity of purpose and character, a spiritual fabric,\nwhich in its result we cannot but recognise as the action of the\nDivine Spirit. A knowledge of God and of the spiritual life gradually\nappears, not as the product of human ingenuity, but as the result of\nDivine communication: and the outcome of this communication is to\nproduce an organic whole which postulates a climax not yet reached, a\nredemption not yet given, a hope not yet satisfied. In this general\nsense at least no Christian ought to feel a difficulty in believing,\nand believing with joy, in the inspiration of the Old Testament: nor\ncan he feel that he is left without a standard by which to judge what\nit means. Christ, the goal of Old Testament development, stands forth\nas the test and measure of its inspiration.\n\nThe New Testament consists of writings of Apostles or of men of\nsub-apostolic rank, like S.\u00a0Luke and probably the author of the\nEpistle to the Hebrews. There is not, except perhaps in the case of\nthe Apocalypse, any sign of an inspiration to write, other than the\ninspiration which gave power to teach. What then is, whether for\nwriting or for teaching, the inspiration of an Apostle?\n\nIf Jesus Christ both was, and knew Himself to be, the Revealer of the\nFather, it almost stands to reason that He must have secured that His\nrevelation should be, without material alloy, communicated to the\nChurch which was to enshrine and perpetuate it. Thus, in fact, we find\nthat He spent His chief pains on the training of His apostolic\nwitnesses. And all the training which He gave them while He was\npresent among them was only to prepare them to receive the Holy Ghost\nWho, after He was gone, was to be poured out upon them to qualify them\nto bear His witness among men.\n\n'Ye shall receive power, when the Holy Ghost is come upon you, and ye\nshall be My witnesses:' 'These things have I spoken unto you while yet\nabiding with you. And the Comforter, even the Holy Ghost, Whom the\nFather will send in My name, He shall teach you all things, and bring\nto your remembrance all that I said unto you.' 'I have yet many things\nto say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now. Howbeit when He, the\nSpirit of truth, is come, He will guide you into all the truth[307].'\n\nThus the Church sees in the Apostles men specially and deliberately\nqualified to interpret Christ to the world. It understands by their\ninspiration an endowment which enables men of all ages to take their\nteaching as representing, and not misrepresenting, His teaching and\nHimself. In S.\u00a0John's Gospel, for example, we have an account of our\nLord which has obviously passed through the medium of a most\nremarkable personality. We have the outcome of the meditation, as well\nas the recollection, of the Apostle. But, as the evidence assures us\nthat the Gospel is really S.\u00a0John's, so the Church unhesitatingly\naccepts S.\u00a0John's strong and repeated asseveration that he is\ninterpreting and not distorting the record, the personality, the\nclaims of Jesus Christ. 'He bears record, and his record is\ntrue[308].'\n\nThis assurance is indeed not without verification: it is verified by\nthe unity of testimony which, under all differences of character and\ncircumstance, we find among the apostolic witnesses. The accepted\ndoctrine of the Church when S.\u00a0Paul wrote his 'undoubted\nEpistles,'--the points of agreement amidst all differences between him\nand the Judaizers--gives us substantially the same conception of the\nPerson of the Incarnate Son of God as we find in S.\u00a0John[309]. The\nsame conception of what He was, is required to interpret the record of\nwhat He did and said in the Synoptic Gospels. Further, the witness of\nthe Apostles, though it receives its final guarantee through the\nbelief in their inspiration, has its natural basis in the prolonged\ntraining by which--'companying with them all the time that He went in\nand out among them, beginning from the baptism of John, until the day\nthat He was received up,'--they were prepared to be His witnesses.\nThus if an act of faith is asked of us in the apostolic inspiration,\nit is a reasonable act of faith.\n\nIf we pass from the writings properly apostolic to those like\nS.\u00a0Luke's records, which represent apostolic teaching at second hand,\nwe do not find that the inspiration of their writers was of such sort\nas enabled them to dispense with the ordinary means or guarantees of\naccuracy. The simple claim of S.\u00a0Luke's preface to have had the best\nmeans of information and to have taken the greatest care in the use of\nthem, is on this score most instructive. We should suppose that their\ninspiration was part of the whole spiritual endowment of their life\nwhich made them the trusted friends of the Apostles, and qualified\nthem to be the chosen instruments to record their teaching, in the\nmidst of a Church whose quick and eager memory of 'the tradition'\nwould have acted as a check to prevent any material error creeping\ninto the record.\n\n4. It will be remembered that when inspiration is spoken of by\nS.\u00a0Paul, he mentions it as a positive endowment which qualifies the\nwritings of those who were its subjects, to be permanent sources of\nspiritual instruction. 'Every Scripture inspired of God is also\nprofitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for instruction\nwhich is in righteousness[310].' Following out this idea of Holy\nScripture then, we are led to think of the belief in inspiration as\nhaving this primary practical result: that we submit ourselves to the\nteaching of every book which is given to us as inspired. We are to put\nourselves to school with each in turn of the inspired writers; with\nS.\u00a0James, for example, in the New Testament, as well as with S.\u00a0John\nand S.\u00a0Paul; with S.\u00a0Luke as well as with S.\u00a0Matthew; with the\nPastoral Epistles as well as with the Epistle to the Galatians[311].\nAt starting each of us, according to his predisposition, is conscious\nof liking some books of Scripture better than others. This, however,\nshould lead us to recognise that in some way we specially need the\nteaching which is less attractive to us. We should set ourselves to\nstudy what we like less, till that too has had its proper effect in\nmoulding our conscience and character. It is hardly possible to\nestimate how much division would have been avoided in the Church if\nthose, for example, who were most ecclesiastically disposed had been\nat pains to assimilate the teaching of the Epistle to the Romans, and\nthose who most valued 'the freedom of the Gospel' had recognised a\nspecial obligation to deepen their hold on the Epistles to the\nCorinthians and the Pastoral Epistles and the Epistle of S.\u00a0James.\n\nTo believe in the inspiration of Holy Scripture is to put ourselves to\nschool with every part of the Old Testament, as of the New. True, the\nOld Testament is imperfect, but for that very reason has a special\nvalue. 'The real use of the earlier record is not to add something to\nthe things revealed in Christ, but to give us that clear and all-sided\ninsight into the meaning and practical worth of the perfect scheme of\nDivine grace which can only be attained by tracing its growth[312].'\nWe see in the Old Testament the elements, each in separation, which\nwent to make up the perfect whole, and which must still lie at the\nbasis of all rightly formed life of individuals and societies.\n\nThus to believe, for instance, in the inspiration of the Old Testament\nforces us to recognise a real element of the Divine education in the\nimprecatory Psalms. They are not the utterances of selfish spite[313]:\nthey are the claim which righteous Israel makes upon God that He\nshould vindicate Himself, and let their eyes see how 'righteousness\nturns again unto judgment.' The claim is made in a form which belongs\nto an early stage of spiritual education; to a time when _this life_\nwas regarded as the scene in which God must finally vindicate Himself,\nand when the large powers and possibilities of the Divine compassion\nwere very imperfectly recognised. But behind these limitations, which\ncharacterize the greater part of the Old Testament, the claim of these\nPsalms still remains a necessary part of the claim of the Christian\nsoul. We must not only recognise the reality of Divine judgments in\ntime and eternity, bodily and spiritual; we must not only acquiesce in\nthem because they are God's; we must go on to claim of God the\nmanifestation of His just judgment, so that holiness and joy, sin and\nfailure, shall be seen to coincide.\n\nTo recognise then the inspiration of the Bible is to put ourselves to\nschool in every part of it, and everywhere to bear in mind the\nadmonition of the _De Imitatione_ 'that every Scripture must be read\nin the same spirit in which it was written.' So far it will not be a\npoint in dispute among Christians what inspiration means, or what its\npurpose is. 'The Councils of Trent and the Vatican,' writes Cardinal\nNewman, 'tell us distinctly the object and the promise of Scriptural\ninspiration. They specify \"faith and moral conduct\" as the drift of\nthat teaching which has the guarantee of inspiration[314].' Nor can it\nbe denied that the more Holy Scripture is read from this point of\nview, the more confidently it is treated as the inspired guide of\nfaith and conduct, no less in the types of character which it sets\nbefore us than in its direct instruction, the more the experience and\nappreciation of its inspiration grows upon us, so that to deny or to\ndoubt it comes to mean to deny or to doubt a matter plain to the\nsenses. Indeed what has been said under this head will probably appear\nto those practised in the spiritual use of Holy Scripture as an\nunderstatement, perhaps not easy to justify, of the sense in which the\nScripture is the Word of God, and the spiritual food of the soul[315].\n\n5. But here certain important questions arise. (_a_) The revelation of\nGod was made in a historical process. Its record is in large part the\nrecord of a national life: it is historical. Now the inspiration of\nthe recorder lies, as we have seen, primarily in this, that he sees\nthe hand of God in the history and interprets His purpose. Further, we\nmust add, his sense of the working of God in history, increases his\nrealization of the importance of historical fact. Thus there is a\nprofound air of historical truthfulness pervading the Old Testament\nrecord from Abraham downward. The weaknesses, the sins, of Israel's\nheroes are not spared. Their sin and its punishment is always before\nus. There is no flattering of national pride, no giving the reins to\nboastfulness. In all this the Old Testament appears to be in marked\ncontrast, as to contemporary Assyrian monuments, so also to a good\ndeal of much later ecclesiastical history. But does the inspiration of\nthe recorder guarantee the exact historical truth of what he records?\nAnd in matter of fact can the record, with due regard to legitimate\nhistorical criticism, be pronounced true? Now, to the latter of these\ntwo questions (and they are quite distinct questions), we may reply\nthat there is nothing to prevent our believing, as our faith certainly\nstrongly disposes us to believe, that the record from Abraham downward\nis in substance in the strict sense historical. Of course the battle\nof historical truth cannot be fought on the field of the Old\nTestament, as it can on that of the New, because it is so vast and\nindecisive, and because (however certainly ancient is such a narrative\nas that contained in Genesis xiv.) very little of the early record can\nbe securely traced to a period near the events. Thus the Church cannot\n_insist upon_ the historical character of the earliest records of the\nancient Church in detail, as she can on the historical character of\nthe Gospels or the Acts of the Apostles. On the other hand, as it\nseems the more probable opinion that the Hebrews must have been\nacquainted with the art of writing in some form long before the\nExodus, there is no reason to doubt the existence of some written\nrecords among them from very early days[316]. Internal evidence again\ncertainly commends to our acceptance the history of the patriarchs, of\nthe Egyptian bondage, of the great redemption, of the wanderings, as\nwell as of the later period as to which there would be less dispute.\nIn a word we are, we believe, not wrong in anticipating that the\nChurch will continue to believe and to teach that the Old Testament\nfrom Abraham downwards is really historical, and that there will be\nnothing to make such belief and teaching unreasonable or wilful. But\nwithin the limits of what is substantially historical, there is still\nroom for an admixture of what, though marked by spiritual purpose, is\nyet not strictly historical--for instance, for a feature which\ncharacterizes all early history, the attribution to first founders of\nwhat is really the remoter result of their institutions. Now\nhistorical criticism[317] assures us that this process has been\nlargely at work in the Pentateuch. By an analysis, for instance, the\nforce of which is very great, it distinguishes distinct stages in the\ngrowth of the law of worship: at least an early stage such as is\nrepresented in 'the Book of the Covenant[318],' a second stage in the\nBook of Deuteronomy, a last stage in 'the Priestly Code.' What we may\nsuppose to have happened is that Moses himself established a certain\ngerm of ceremonial enactment in connection with the ark and its sacred\ntent, and with the 'ten words'; and that this developed always as 'the\nlaw of Moses,' the whole result being constantly attributed, probably\nunconsciously and certainly not from any intention to deceive, to the\noriginal founder. This view would certainly imply that the recorders\nof Israel's history were subject to the ordinary laws in the estimate\nof evidence, that their inspiration did not consist in a miraculous\ncommunication to them of facts as they originally happened: but if we\nbelieve that the law, as it grew, really did represent the Divine\nintention for the Jews, gradually worked out upon the basis of a\nMosaic institution, there is nothing materially untruthful, though\nthere is something uncritical, in attributing the whole legislation to\nMoses acting under the Divine command. It would be only of a piece\nwith the attribution of the collection of Psalms to David and of\nProverbs to Solomon. Nor does the supposition that the law was of\ngradual growth interfere in any way with the symbolical and typical\nvalue of its various ordinances.\n\nOnce again, the same school of criticism would assure us that the\nBooks of Chronicles represent a later and less historical version of\nIsrael's history than that given in Samuel and Kings[319]: they\nrepresent, according to this view, the version of that history which\nhad become current in the priestly schools. What we are asked to admit\nis not conscious perversion, but unconscious idealizing of history,\nthe reading back into past records of a ritual development which was\nreally later. Now inspiration excludes conscious deception or pious\nfraud, but it appears to be quite consistent with this sort of\nidealizing; always supposing that the result read back into the\nearlier history does represent the real purpose of God and only\nanticipates its realization.\n\nHere then is one great question. Inspiration certainly means the\nillumination of the judgment of the recorder. 'By the contact of the\nHoly Spirit,' says Origen, 'they became clearer in their mental\nperceptions, and their souls were filled with a brighter light[320].'\nBut have we any reason to believe that it means, over and above this,\nthe miraculous communication of facts not otherwise to be known, a\nmiraculous communication such as would make the recorder independent\nof the ordinary processes of historical tradition? Certainly neither\nS.\u00a0Luke's preface to his Gospel, nor the evidence of any inspired\nrecord, justifies us in this assumption. Nor would it appear that\nspiritual illumination, even in the highest degree, has any tendency\nto lift men out of the natural conditions of knowledge which belong to\ntheir time. Certainly in the similar case of exegesis, it would appear\nthat S.\u00a0Paul is left to the method of his time, though he uses it with\ninspired insight into the function and meaning of law and of prophecy\nas a whole. Thus, without pronouncing an opinion, where we have no\nright to do so, on the critical questions at present under discussion,\nwe may maintain with considerable assurance that there is nothing in\nthe doctrine of inspiration to prevent our recognising a considerable\nidealizing element in the Old Testament history. The reason is of\ncourse obvious enough why what can be admitted in the Old Testament,\ncould not without results disastrous to the Christian Creed, be\nadmitted in the New. It is because the Old Testament is the record of\nhow God produced a need, or anticipation, or ideal, while the New\nTestament records how in fact He satisfied it. The absolute\ncoincidence of idea and fact is vital in the realization, not in the\npreparation for it. It is equally obvious, too, that where fact is of\nsupreme importance, as in the New Testament, the evidence has none of\nthe ambiguity or remoteness which belongs to much of the record of the\npreparation.\n\n(_b_) But once again; we find all sorts of literature in the inspired\nvolume: men can be inspired to think and to write for God under all\nthe forms of natural genius. Now one form of genius is the dramatic:\nits essence is to make characters, real or imaginary, the vehicles for\nan ideal presentation. It presents embodied ideas. Now the Song of\nSolomon is of the nature of a drama. The Book of Job, although it\nworks on an historical basis, is, it can hardly be denied, mainly\ndramatic. The Book of Wisdom, which with us is among the books of the\nBible, though in the second rank outside the canon, and which is\ninside the canon of the Roman Church, professes to be written by\nSolomon[321], but is certainly written not by him, but in his person\nby another author. We may then conceive the same to be true of\nEcclesiastes, and of Deuteronomy; i.e. we may suppose Deuteronomy to\nbe a republication of the law 'in the spirit and power' of Moses put\ndramatically into his mouth. Criticism goes further, and asks us to\nregard Jonah and Daniel, among the prophetic books, as dramatic\ncompositions worked up on a basis of history. The discussion of these\nbooks has often been approached from a point of view from which the\nmiraculous is necessarily unhistorical. With such a point of view we\nare not concerned. The possibility and reality of miracles has to be\nvindicated first of all in the field of the New Testament; and one who\nadmits them there, cannot reasonably exclude their possibility in the\nearlier history. The question must be treated simply on literary and\nevidential grounds[322]. But we would contend that if criticism should\nshew these books to be probably dramatic, that would be no hindrance\nto their performing 'an important canonical function,' or to their\nbeing inspired. Dramatic composition has played an immense part in\ntraining the human mind. It is as far removed as possible from a\nviolation of truth, though in an uncritical age its results may very\nsoon pass for history. It admits of being inspired as much as poetry,\nor history, and indeed there are few who could feel a difficulty in\nrecognising as inspired the teaching of the books of Jonah and\nDaniel[323]. It is maintained then that the Church leaves open to\nliterary criticism the question whether several of the writings of the\nOld Testament are or are not dramatic. Certainly the fact that they\nhave not commonly been taken to be so in the past will be no evidence\nto the contrary, unless it can be denied that a literary criticism is\nbeing developed, which is as really new an intellectual product as the\nscientific development, and as such, certain to reverse a good many of\nthe literary judgments of previous ages. We are being asked to make\nconsiderable changes in our literary conception of the Scriptures, but\nnot greater changes than were involved in the acceptance of the\nheliocentric astronomy.\n\n(_c_) Once again: an enlarged study of comparative history has led to\nour perceiving that the various sorts of mental or literary activity\ndevelop in their different lines out of an earlier condition in which\nthey lie fused and undifferentiated. This we can vaguely call the\nmythical stage of mental evolution. A myth is not a falsehood; it is a\nproduct of mental activity, as instructive and rich as any later\nproduct, but its characteristic is that it is not yet distinguished\ninto history, and poetry, and philosophy. It is all of these in the\ngerm, as dream and imagination, and thought and experience, are fused\nin the mental furniture of a child's mind. 'These myths or current\nstories,' says Grote writing of Greek history, 'the spontaneous and\nearliest growth of the Greek mind, constituted at the same time the\nentire intellectual stock of the age to which they belonged. They are\nthe common root of all those different ramifications into which the\nmental activity of the Greeks subsequently diverged; containing as it\nwere the preface and germ of the positive history and philosophy, the\ndogmatic theology and the professed romance, which we shall hereafter\ntrace, each in its separate development.' Now has the Jewish history\nsuch earlier stage: does it pass back out of history into myth? In\nparticular, are not its earlier narratives, before the call of\nAbraham, of the nature of myth, in which we cannot distinguish the\nhistorical germ, though we do not at all deny that it exists? The\ninspiration of these narratives is as conspicuous as that of any part\nof Scripture, but is there anything to prevent our regarding these\ngreat inspirations about the origin of all things,--the nature of sin,\nthe judgment of God on sin, and the alienation among men which follows\ntheir alienation from God,--as conveyed to us in that form of myth or\nallegorical picture, which is the earliest mode in which the mind of\nman apprehended truth?\n\n6. In spite of the arbitrariness and the irreligion which have often\nbeen associated with the modern development of historical criticism in\nits application to the Old Testament, the present writer believes that\nit represents none the less a real advance in literary analysis, and\nis reaching results as sure, where it is fairly used, as scientific\ninquiry, though the results in the one case as in the other are often\nhard to disentangle from their less permanent accompaniments.\nBelieving this, and feeling in consequence that the warning which the\nname of Galileo must ever bring before the memory of churchmen, is not\nunneeded now, he believes also that the Church is in no way restrained\nfrom admitting the modifications just hinted at, in what has latterly\nbeen the current idea of inspiration.\n\nThe Church is not restrained, in the first place, by having committed\nherself to any dogmatic definitions of the meaning of inspiration[324].\nIt is remarkable indeed that Origen's almost reckless mysticism, and\nhis accompanying repudiation of the historical character of large\nparts of the narrative of the Old Testament, and of some parts of the\nNew[325], though it did not gain acceptance, and indeed had no right\nto it (for it had no sound basis), on the other hand never roused the\nChurch to contrary definitions. Nor is it only Origen who disputed the\nhistorical character of parts of the narrative of Holy Scripture.\nClement before him in Alexandria, and the mediaeval Anselm in the\nWest, treat the seven days' creation as allegory and not history.\nAthanasius speaks of paradise as a 'figure.' A mediaeval Greek writer,\nwho had more of Irenaeus than remains to us, declared that 'he did not\nknow how those who kept to the letter and took the account of the\ntemptation historically rather than allegorically, could meet the\narguments of Irenaeus against them.' Further than this, it cannot be\ndenied that the mystical method, as a whole, tended to the depreciation\nof the historical sense, in comparison with the spiritual teaching\nwhich it conveyed[326]. In a different line, Chrysostom, of the\nliteral school of interpreters, explains quite in the tone of a modern\napologist, how the discrepancies in detail between the different\nGospels, assure us of the independence of the witnesses, and do not\ntouch the facts of importance, in which all agree.\n\nThe Church is not tied then by any existing definitions. We cannot\nmake any exact claim upon any one's belief in regard to inspiration,\nsimply because we have no authoritative definition to bring to bear\nupon him. Those of us who believe most in the inspiration of the\nChurch, will see a Divine Providence in this absence of dogma, because\nwe shall perceive that only now is the state of knowledge such as\nadmits of the question being legitimately raised.\n\nNor does it seem that the use which our Lord made of the Old Testament\nis an argument against the proposed concessions. Our Lord, in His use\nof the Old Testament, does indeed endorse with the utmost emphasis the\nJewish view of their own history. He does thus imply, on the one hand,\nthe real inspiration of their canon in its completeness, and, on the\nother hand, that He Himself was the goal of that inspired leading and\nthe standard of that inspiration. 'Your father Abraham rejoiced to see\nMy day:' 'I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil.' This, and it is\nthe important matter for all that concerns our spiritual education, is\nnot in dispute. What is questioned is that our Lord's words foreclose\ncertain critical positions as to the character of Old Testament\nliterature. For example, does His use of Jonah's resurrection, as a\n_type_ of His own, depend in any real degree upon whether it is\nhistorical fact or allegory[327]? It is of the essence of a type to\n_suggest_ an idea, as of the antitype to _realize_ it. The narrative\nof Jonah suggested certainly the idea of resurrection after three\ndays, of triumph over death, and by suggesting this gave our Lord what\nHis discourse required. Once more, our Lord uses the time before the\nflood[328] to illustrate the carelessness of men before His own\ncoming. He is using the flood here as a typical judgment, as elsewhere\nHe uses other contemporary visitations for a like purpose. In\nreferring to the flood He certainly suggests that He is treating it as\ntypical, for He introduces circumstances--'eating and drinking,\nmarrying and giving in marriage'--which have no counterpart in the\noriginal narrative. Nothing in His use of it depends on its being more\nthan a typical instance. Once more, He argues with the Pharisees on\nthe assumption of the Davidic authorship of Psalm cx[329]. But it must\nbe noticed that He is asking a question rather than making a\nstatement--a question, moreover, which does not admit of being turned\ninto a statement without suggesting the conclusion, of which\nrationalistic critics have not hesitated to avail themselves, that\nDavid's Lord could not be David's son. There are, we notice, other\noccasions when our Lord asked questions which cannot be made the basis\nof positive propositions[330]. It was in fact part of His method to\nlead men to examine their own principles without at the time\nsuggesting any positive conclusion at all.\n\nIt may also fairly be represented, on a review of our Lord's teaching\nas a whole, that if He had intended to convey instruction to us on\ncritical and literary questions, He would have made His purpose\nplainer. It is contrary to His whole method to reveal His Godhead by\nany anticipations of natural knowledge. The Incarnation was a\nself-emptying of God to reveal Himself under conditions of human\nnature and from the human point of view. We are able to draw a\ndistinction between what He revealed and what He used. He revealed\nGod, His mind, His character, His claim, within certain limits His\nThreefold Being: He revealed man, his sinfulness, his need, his\ncapacity: He revealed His purpose of redemption, and founded His\nChurch as a home in which man was to be through all the ages\nreconciled to God in knowledge and love. All this He revealed, but\nthrough, and under conditions of, a true human nature. Thus He _used_\nhuman nature, its relation to God, its conditions of experience, its\ngrowth in knowledge, its limitation of knowledge[331]. He feels as we\nmen ought to feel: he sees as we ought to see. We can thus distinguish\nmore or less between the Divine truth which He reveals, and the human\nnature which He uses. Now when He speaks of the 'sun rising' He is\nusing ordinary human knowledge. He willed so to restrain the beams of\nDeity as to observe the limits of the science of His age, and He puts\nHimself in the same relation to its historical knowledge. Thus He does\nnot reveal His eternity by statements as to what had happened in the\npast, or was to happen in the future, outside the ken of existing\nhistory[332]. He made His Godhead gradually manifest by His attitude\ntowards men and things about Him, by His moral and spiritual claims,\nby His expressed relation to His Father, not by any miraculous\nexemptions of Himself from the conditions of natural knowledge in its\nown proper province. Thus the utterances of Christ about the Old\nTestament do not seem to be nearly definite or clear enough to allow\nof our supposing that in this case He is departing from the general\nmethod of the Incarnation, by bringing to bear the unveiled\nomniscience of the Godhead, to anticipate or foreclose a development\nof natural knowledge.\n\nBut if we thus plead that theology may leave the field open for free\ndiscussion of these questions which Biblical criticism has recently\nbeen raising, we shall probably be bidden to 'remember T\u00fcbingen,' and\nnot be over-trustful of a criticism which at least exhibits in some of\nits most prominent representatives a great deal of arbitrariness, of\nlove of 'new views' for their own sake, and a great lack of that\nreverence and spiritual insight which is at least as much needed for\nunderstanding the books of the Bible, as accurate knowledge and fair\ninvestigation. To this the present writer would be disposed to reply\nthat, if the Christian Church has been enabled to defeat the critical\nattack, so far as it threatened destruction to the historical basis of\nthe New Testament, it has not been by foreclosing the question with an\nappeal to dogma, but by facing in fair and frank discussion the\nproblems raised. A similar treatment of Old Testament problems will\nenable us to distinguish between what is reasonable and reverent, and\nwhat is high-handed and irreligious in contemporary criticism whether\nGerman, French, or English. Even in regard to what makes _prima facie_\na reasonable claim, we do not prejudice the decision by declaring the\nfield open: in all probability there will always remain more than one\nschool of legitimate opinion on the subject: indeed the purpose of the\nlatter part of this essay has not been to inquire how much we can\nwithout irrationality believe inspiration to involve; but rather, how\nmuch may legitimately and without real loss be conceded. For, without\ndoubt, if consistently with entire loyalty to our Lord and His Church,\nwe can regard as open the questions specified above, we are removing\ngreat obstacles from the path to belief of many who certainly wish to\nbelieve, and do not exhibit any undue scepticism. Nor does there\nappear to be any real danger that the criticism of the Old Testament\nwill ultimately diminish our reverence for it. In the case of the New\nTestament certainly we are justified in feeling that modern\ninvestigation has resulted in immensely augmenting our understanding\nof the different books, and has distinctly fortified and enriched our\nsense of their inspiration. Why then should we hesitate to believe\nthat the similar investigation of the Old Testament will in its result\nsimilarly enrich our sense that 'God in divers portions and divers\nmanners spake of old times unto the fathers,' and that the Inspiration\nof Holy Scriptures will always be recognised as the most conspicuous\nof the modes in which the Holy Spirit has mercifully wrought for the\nillumination and encouragement of our race?\n\n'For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our\nlearning, that we through patience and comfort of the Scriptures might\nhave hope.'\n\n[248] Cyprian, _ad Donatum_ 3. Trans. in _Library of the Fathers_,\niii. p. 3.\n\n[249] Athanasius, _de Incarnatione_, 31, 48-52.\n\n[250] See S.\u00a0Basil's fine definition of the term in his treatise _on\nthe Holy Spirit_, ix.\u00a022. This treatise has been translated by the\nRev. G. Lewis for the 'Religious Tract Society.'\n\n[251] See Basil, as above, xvi.\u00a037: 'We must not suppose because the\nApostle (1\u00a0Cor. xii.\u00a04) mentions the Spirit first, and the Son second,\nand God the Father third, that the order at the present day has been\nquite reversed. For he made his beginning from our end of the\nrelation: for it is by receiving the gifts, that we come in contact\nwith the Distributor; then we come to consider the Sender; then we\ncarry back our thought to the Fount and Cause of the good things.' Cf.\nxviii. 47: 'The way of the knowledge of God is from one Spirit, by the\none Son, to the one Father: and reversely, the natural goodness of\nGod, His holiness of nature, His royal rank taking their rise from the\nFather, reach the Spirit though the Only-begotten.'\n\n[252] Ambrose, _de Spiritu Sancto_, i.\u00a015, 172.\n\n[253] So Irenaeus, Cyril of Jerusalem, Athanasius, Basil, Didymus,\nVictorinus, express the relation of the Divine Persons in Creation.\n\n[254] Ps. xxxiii.\u00a06; Gen. i.\u00a02; Ps. civ. 29, 30.\n\n[255] Huet. _Origeniana, L._ ii. _Qu._ 2. c. xxvii. Cf. Athan. _Epp.\nad Serapion_. i.\u00a023-31; iv.\u00a09-12.\n\n[256] Gen. ii.\u00a07.\n\n[257] Athan. _de Incarn._ xliii.\u00a03.\n\n[258] Athan. _l.c._ xii.\u00a05, xliii.\u00a04.\n\n[259] Iren. _c. Haer._ iii.\u00a017, 1.\n\n[260] S.\u00a0Mark i.\u00a010, 12. S.\u00a0Luke iv. 1, 18; x.\u00a021. S.\u00a0Matt. xii.\u00a028.\nHeb. ix. 14. Rom. viii.\u00a011. (These two last passages at least imply\nthe action of the Holy Spirit in the Sacrifice and Resurrection of\nChrist.)\n\n[261] Heb. v.\u00a07-10. Phil. ii.\u00a08.\n\n[262] 1\u00a0Cor. xv.\u00a045, 'The last Adam became a life-giving Spirit.'\nS.\u00a0John vi.\u00a063, 'Spirit and Life.'\n\n[263] Iren. iii.\u00a018, 1, and frequently elsewhere.\n\n[264] Iren. iii. 24, 1. Cf. H. C. G. Moule's _Veni Creator_, pp.\n39-40.\n\n[265] S.\u00a0John iii.\u00a04. The intention of this passage is to express not\nthat the Spirit is lawless in His operations, but that He is beyond\nour control.\n\n[266] Aug. _de Spiritu et Littera_, xxvii.\u00a047, 'Grace is not the\nnegation of nature, but its restoration.'\n\n[267] Raymund of Sabunde, _Theol. Nat._ tit. 303.\n\n[268] Basil, _de Spiritu Sancto_ ix.\u00a023 (Lewis' translation). Cf.\nNewman's _Univ. Sermons_, 'Personal Influence the means of propagating\nthe truth.'\n\n[269] Cyril, _Catech._ xvi.\u00a012. The attention to the differences of\nindividual character is very noticeable in S.\u00a0Basil's monastic rule:\nsee the _Regulae fusius tractatae_, resp. 19, and the _Constit.\nMonast._ 4. Also in the writings of Gregory of Nazianzus, Chrysostom,\nand Gregory the Great _on the Pastoral Office_.\n\n[270] 1\u00a0Cor. ii.\u00a015. 1 S.\u00a0John ii.\u00a020-27.\n\n[271] Clement Alex. _Strom._ v.\u00a013. 88.\n\n[272] _Republic_, 401 D, 402 A.\n\n[273] Caird's _Hegel_ (Blackwood's Philosophical Classics), p. 72.\n\n[274] Anselm, _Proslog._ 4; he adds, 'So that even if I were unwilling\nto _believe_ that Thou art, I could not cease to understand it.' But\nthe whole relation of authority and reason is most completely grasped\nand stated by S.\u00a0Augustine: see Cunningham, _S.\u00a0Austin_ (Cambridge\nUniv. Press, 1886), pp. 9, 157 ff.\n\n[275] Dr. Salmon, _Infallibility_, p. 115, has a clever comparison of\nthe authority of the Church to that of the town clock. The value we\nassign to having such an authoritative standard of the right time does\nnot prevent our recognising the importance of having it regulated.\n'And if we desired to remove an error which had accumulated during a\nlong season of neglect, it would be very unfair to represent us as\nwishing to silence the clock, or else as wishing to allow every\ntownsman to get up and push the hands backwards and forwards as he\npleased.'\n\n[276] But cf. pp. 196-8, 229-232, 258-260.\n\n[277] Manning, _Temporal Mission of the Holy Ghost_, third edit. pp.\n9, 29, 238-240.\n\n[278] See, for instance, _c. Haer._ v.\u00a010, 2. 'The wild olive does not\nchange its substance [when it is grafted in, see Rom. xi.\u00a017], but\nonly the quality of its fruit, and takes a new name, no longer being\ncalled an oleaster but an olive; so also man when he is by faith\ngrafted in, and receives the Spirit of God, does not lose his fleshly\nsubstance, but changes the quality of the works which are his fruits,\nand takes another name indicating his improved condition, and is no\nlonger described as flesh and blood, but as a spiritual man.' So also\nv.\u00a06, 1, 'whom the apostle calls \"spiritual\" because they have the\nSpirit, not because they have been robbed of the flesh and become bare\nspirit.' It is the recognition of this principle that makes most of\nthe language of the Fathers on fasting so healthy and sensible. The\nend of fasting is not to destroy the flesh, but to free the spirit.\n\n[279] See especially Mozley's _Lectures on the Old Testament_, x.:\n'The end the test of progressive revelation.'\n\n[280] Greg. Naz. _Orat._ xxxi.\u00a025. Many of the greatest of the ancient\nChristian writers depreciate the sacrificial law as a mere concession,\nmade to avoid worse things, when the incident of the calf shewed that\nthe first legislation of the Ten Commandments was too spiritual: so\nJerome _in Isai._ 1, 12, _In Jer._ vii.\u00a021. Cf. Justin, _Trypho_ 19.\nChrys. _adv. Jud._ iv.\u00a06. Epiphan. _Haer._ lxvi.\u00a071. _Constt. ap._\ni.\u00a06; vi.\u00a020. This method of interpretation is perhaps derived from\nthe Epistle of Barnabas, 2-4.\n\n[281] Chrys. _in Matth. Homil._ xvii.\u00a05-6 (slightly abbreviated). Cf.\n_Libell. Faustin. et Marcellin._ in _Bibl. Vet. Patrum._ tom. v.\u00a0657\nd.\n\n[282] _On the Holy Spirit_, xiv.\u00a033 (Lewis' trans.).\n\n[283] Aug. _de Trin._ i.\u00a010, 21. This principle alone gives a basis\nfor the doctrine of 'imputation' so far as it is true. God deals with\nus, e.g. in absolution, by anticipation of what is to come about in\nus, in Christ.\n\n[284] Thom. Aq. _Summa Theol._ pars sec. sec. Qu. 1. Art. ix.\n\n[285] The above paragraph is a summary of expressions constantly met\nwith in the Fathers. It is S.\u00a0Ambrose who protests against the idea\nthat the priest can be spoken of as having power over the Divine\nThings which he ministers, see _De Spiritu Sancto_, praef. 18, lib. i.\n11, 118: 'nostra sunt servitia sed tua sacramenta. Neque enim humanae\nopis est divina conferre.' S.\u00a0Augustine, among others, draws the\ndistinction between gifts from the Spirit and the gift of Himself.\n_Ep._ cxciv.: 'aliter adiuvat nondum inhabitans, aliter inhabitans:\nnam nondum inhabitans adiuvat ut sint fideles, inhabitans adiuvat iam\nfideles.' Didymus, _de Spiritu Sancto_ 15, calls attention to the\ndistinction in the New Testament between \u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u1fe6\u03bc\u03b1 (without the article)\ni.e. 'a spiritual gift,' and \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u1fe6\u03bc\u03b1, i.e. the Spirit Himself: cf.\nWestcott on S.\u00a0John vii.\u00a039.\n\n[286] Greg. Naz. _Orat._ xxxi.\u00a08.\n\n[287] See Athan. _Epp. ad Serapion._ i. 17. Cyril Hieros. _Cat._\nxvi.\u00a024. Iren. v.\u00a013, 2. Basil, _de Spiritu Sancto_, iii.\u00a05.\n\n[288] The _Dict. of Chr. Biog._, Art. HOLY GHOST (by Dr. Swete), has\nan admirable summary of the theology of the subject.\n\n[289] See Godet on S.\u00a0John xv.\u00a026, 27.\n\n[290] Athan. _Epp. ad Serap._ i.\u00a019. S.\u00a0John xiv.\u00a016, 18, 23.\n\n[291] Plato's human trinity is made up of reason, spirit [\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2], and\ndesire: S.\u00a0Augustine's of memory (i.e. personal identity), reason, and\nwill; or mind, knowledge, and love. Nothing has been said in the text\nof Patristic and more recent attempts to express the function of the\nHoly Spirit in the inner relations of the Trinity. Some of the Fathers\nspeak of the Holy Spirit as completing the circle of the Divine Life,\nor as 'the return of God upon Himself,' 'the bond of the Father and\nthe Son.' This eternal function would interpret His temporal mission\nto bring all creatures back into union with God. Not very differently\nS.\u00a0Augustine speaks of Him as the Love of the Father and the Son:\n'Vides Trinitatem si caritatem vides. Ecce tria sunt; amans et quod\namatur et amor.' And this Love is itself personal and coordinate:\n'commune aliquid est Patris et Filii; at ipsa communio consubstantialis\net coaeterna.' But in such speculation they allow themselves with much\nreserve and expression of unwillingness.\n\nIn fact it is easy to see that an eternally living God, knowing and\nloving, must be a God Whose Being involves eternal relationships.\nKnowledge involves a relation of subject and object: to make love\npossible there must be a lover and a loved. It is more difficult to\nsee how a perfect relationship must be threefold; but there are true\nlines of thought which lead up to this, such, for instance, as make us\nsee first in the family, the type of complete life. Love which is only\na relation of two, is selfish or unsatisfied: it demands an object and\na product of mutual love. See especially Richard of S.\u00a0Victor, _de\nTrin._ Pars i. lib. iii. cc.\u00a014, 15: 'Communio amoris non potest esse\nomnino minus quam in tribus personis. Nihil autem (ut dictum est)\ngloriosius, nihil magnificentius, quam quicquid habes utile et dulce\n_in commune deducere_: ... hujusmodi dulcedinis delicias solus non\npossidet qui in exhibita sibi dilectione socium _et condilectum_ non\nhabet; quamdiu _condilectum_ non habet, praecipui gaudii communione\ncaret.' See also Sartorius, _Doctrine of Divine Love_ (Clark's Foreign\nTheol. Libr.), p. 16.\n\n[292] _Microcosmus_, B. ix. C. iv. (E. T. vol. ii. p. 660.)\n\n[293] See especially Gal. i.\u00a08, 9.\n\n[294] Heb. ii.\u00a03.\n\n[295] See further on the fatal results of separating the Spirit's work\nin Scripture, from His work in the Church, Coleridge, _Remains_\niii.\u00a093, iv. 118; or quoted by Hare, _Mission of the Comforter_, Note\nH. vol. ii. pp. 468, 474.\n\n[296] This distinction was drawn by Bishop Clifford, _Fortnightly\nReview_, Jan. 1887, p. 145.\n\n[297] Cf. the quotation in Eusebius, _H. E._ v.\u00a028.\n\n[298] Athan. _de Incarn._ 12. Cf. Ewald's preface to his _History of\nIsrael_.\n\n[299] See Gratry, _Henri Perreyve_, pp. 162, 163.\n\n[300] Delitzsch, _O.T. History of Redemption_, p. 106. Cf. Prof.\nRobertson Smith, _Prophets of Israel_, p. 108.\n\n[301] See Epiphan. _Haer._ xlviii.\u00a04. Westcott, _Introd. to the Study\nof the Gospels_, App. B, sect. ii.\u00a04, sect. iv.\u00a04. Mason, _Faith of\nthe Gospel_, p. 255.\n\n[302] See Professor Driver's admirable article on 'the cosmogony of\nGenesis.' _Expositor_, Jan. 1886.\n\n[303] Professor Cheyne, speaking of such narratives of Scriptures as\nthe record of Elijah, protests against the supposition that they are\n'true to fact.' 'True to fact! Who goes to the artist for hard dry\nfacts? Why even the historians of antiquity thought it no part of\ntheir duty to give the mere prose of life. How much less can the\nunconscious artists of the imaginative East have described their\nheroes with relentless photographic accuracy!' (_The Hallowing of\nCriticism_, p. 5.) But it seems to me that such a passage, by treating\nthe recorders of the Old Testament as 'artists,' ignores their obvious\nintention to lay stress on what God has actually done, the\ndeliverances He has actually wrought. They, at least, like the Greek\nhistorical 'artist' of the defeat of Persia, would have laid great\nstress on the facts having happened.\n\n[304] Church, _Discipline of the Christian Character_, p. 57. This\nwork seems to me the best existing answer to the question, in what\ndoes the inspiration of the Old Testament consist.\n\n[305] Cf. pp. 161-167. In view of criticisms it may be explained that\nin the account of the prophet given above only that view of his\ninspiration is taken into consideration which appeals first to the\nenquirer (cf. the words in the next paragraph 'in this general sense\nat least'). When once this primary assurance of inspiration is gained\nthe evidence of detailed prophecies will be found cogent. As we\ncompare the anticipations of the Messiah or of the 'Righteous Servant'\nin such passages as Ps. xxii., Is. liii., vii.\u00a014, or ix.\u00a06, 7, with\ntheir fulfilment in Jesus Christ, we recognise a special action of the\nHoly Ghost, marking even in details the continuity of His method. Cf.\np. 167 referred to above.\n\n[306] See for instance Micah v.\u00a02-6. On the subject of the limitations\nof prophetic foresight, as on the whole subject of prophecy, let me\nrefer to Dr. Ed. Riehm, _Messianic Prophecy_ (Clark's trans.) pp. 79,\n86 ff., 114, 157-162.\n\n[307] Acts i.\u00a08. S.\u00a0John xiv.\u00a025, 26; xvi.\u00a012, 13.\n\n[308] S.\u00a0John xix.\u00a035; xxi.\u00a024. 1 S.\u00a0John i.\u00a01-3.\n\n[309] See Prof. Sanday's _What the first Christians thought about\nChrist_. (Oxford House Papers: Rivington.)\n\n[310] 2 Tim. iii.\u00a016.\n\n[311] Mr. Horton's book on _Inspiration and the Bible_ is almost\nnaively lacking in this quality of impartial regard to inspired books.\n\n[312] Prof. Robertson Smith, _Prophets of Israel_, p. 6.\n\n[313] Cf. Prof. Robertson Smith, _The Old Testament in the Jewish\nChurch_, Lect. vii. p. 207: 'Another point in which criticism removes\na serious difficulty is the interpretation of the imprecatory psalms.'\n\n[314] See _Nineteenth Century_, Feb. 1884, p. 189.\n\n[315] 'When from time to time,' says S.\u00a0Bernard to his monks,\n'anything that was hidden or obscure in the Scriptures has come out\ninto the light to any one of you, at once the voice of exultation and\nthankfulness for the nourishment of spiritual food that has been\nreceived, must rise as from a banquet to delight the ears of God.'\n\n[316] See the Annual Address (1889) delivered at the Victoria\nInstitute by Prof. Sayce, on the cuneiform tablets of Tel el-amarna,\npp. 4, 14 f.: 'We learn that in the fifteenth century before our\nera--a century before the Exodus--active literary intercourse was\ngoing on throughout the civilized world of Western Asia, between\nBabylonia and Egypt and the smaller states of Palestine.... This\nintercourse was carried on by means of the Babylonian language and the\ncomplicated Babylonian script. How educated the old world was, we are\nbut just beginning to learn. But we have already learnt enough to\ndiscover how important a bearing it has on the criticism of the Old\nTestament.'\n\n[317] See Driver, _Crit. notes on Sunday-School lessons_ (Scribner:\nNew York).\n\n[318] Ex. xx. xxii-xxiii. xxxiii.\n\n[319] The Books of Kings seem to be compiled from the point of view of\nthe Deuteronomist.\n\n[320] Origen, _c. Cels._ vii.\u00a04.\n\n[321] E.g. chs. vii. ix. The Roman Church admits that it is, to use\nNewman's phrase, 'a prosopopeia'; 'our Bibles say, \"it is written in\nthe person of Solomon\" and \"it is uncertain who was the writer,\"' l.c.\np. 197. It is important to bear in mind that the Western Church in\ngeneral has, since S.\u00a0Augustine's day, admitted into the canon a book\nthe literary method of which is thus confessedly dramatic. Newman\nmakes this the ground for saying that the same may be true of\nEcclesiastes.\n\n[322] On the evidence of O.T. miracles I may refer to Mr. Samuel Cox's\nEssay: _Miracles, an Argument and a Challenge_. (Kegan Paul, 1884.)\n\n[323] Of course the distinction must be maintained in the case of the\nbook of Daniel between a 'pious fraud' which cannot be inspired, and\nan idealizing personification which, as a normal type of literature,\ncan. Further study will probably solve the special difficulty which on\nthe critical hypothesis attaches to the book of Daniel from this point\nof view: see Stanton, _Jewish and Christian Messiah_, p. 109, note 1.\n\n[324] This is certainly true of the Church as a whole. For the most\nthat can be said in the same sense of the Roman Church, see Newman in\nthe article above cited.\n\n[325] _De Principiis_, iv.\u00a015, 16, 17. His point is that incidents\nwhich could not have occurred in fact, or at least did not occur, are\ninserted in the narrative of the Old and New Testaments, that their\nvery historical impossibility or improbability may drive us to the\nconsideration of their spiritual significance. 'The attentive reader\nmay notice ... innumerable other passages, like these, so that he will\nbe convinced that in the histories that are literally recorded,\ncircumstances are inserted that did not occur.' Cf. Bigg, _Christian\nPlatonists_, pp. 137-8.\n\n[326] Cf. Jerome, _ad Nepotian. ep._ lii.\u00a02.\n\n[327] S.\u00a0Matt. xii.\u00a040.\n\n[328] S.\u00a0Matt. xxiv.\u00a037-39.\n\n[329] S.\u00a0Matt. xxii.\u00a041-46.\n\n[330] See especially S.\u00a0Mark x.\u00a017-18 (and parallel passages), where\nour Lord's question, if converted into a positive proposition,\nsuggests a repudiation of personal goodness. Cf. also the question in\nS.\u00a0John x.\u00a034-36 where, though the argument is _a fortiori_, still the\ntrue character of our Lord's sonship is hardly suggested.\n\n[331] This limitation of knowledge must not be confused with\nfallibility or liability to human delusion, because it was doubtless\nguarded by the Divine purpose which led Jesus Christ to take it upon\nHimself.\n\n[332] Of course He gave prophetic indications of the coming judgment,\nbut on the analogy of inspired prophecy. He did not reveal 'times and\nseasons,' and declared that it was not within the scope of His mission\nto do so. See esp. S.\u00a0Mark xiii.\u00a032. He exhibits supernatural insight\ninto men's characters and lives. But He never exhibits the omniscience\nof bare Godhead in the realm of natural knowledge; such as would be\nrequired to anticipate the results of modern science or criticism.\nThis 'self-emptying' of God in the Incarnation is, we must always\nremember, no failure of power, but a continuous act of Self-sacrifice:\ncf. 2 Cor. viii.\u00a09 and Phil. ii.\u00a07. Indeed God 'declares His almighty\npower most chiefly' in this condescension, whereby He 'beggared\nHimself' of Divine prerogatives, to put Himself in our place.\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\n_THE CHURCH._\n\nWALTER LOCK.\n\n\nChristianity claims to be at once a life, a truth, and a worship; and,\non all these accounts, it needs must find expression in a church. For,\nin the first place, the life of an individual remains dwarfed and\nstunted as long as it is lived in isolation; it is in its origin the\noutcome of other lives; it is at every moment of its existence\ndependent upon others; it reaches perfection only when it arrives at a\nconscious sense of its own deficiencies and limitations, and,\ntherefore, of its dependence, and through such a sense realizes with\nthankfulness its true relation to the rest of life around it. Again,\nthe knowledge of truth comes to the individual first through the\nmediation of others, of his parents and teachers; as he grows, and his\nown intellect works more freely, yet its results only gain\nconsistency, security, width, when tested by the results of other\nworkers; and directly we wish to propagate these results, they must be\nembodied in the lives of others, in societies, in organizations.\nWithout these, ideas remain in the air, abstract, intangible,\nappealing perhaps to the philosophic few, but high above the reach of\nthe many, the simple. 'All human society is the receptacle, nursery,\nand dwelling-place of ideas, shaped and limited according to the\nnature of the society--ideas which live and act on it and in it; which\nare preserved, passed on, and transmitted from one portion of it to\nanother, from one generation to another; which would be merely\nabstractions or individual opinions if they were not endowed with the\ncommon life which their reception in a society gives them[333].'\n\nThese two principles are, obviously, not confined to religious\nquestions. They apply to morality, to society, to politics. They are\nassumed in all ethical and political treatises. The need of\nco-operation for common life underlies the whole structure of the\nRepublic of Plato; it is implied in Aristotle's definition of man as a\nsocial animal, and in his close association of Ethics with Politics:\nit has created the family, the tribe, the state; each fresh assertion\nof the principle, each breaking down of the barriers which separate\nfamily from family, tribe from tribe, nation from nation, has been a\nstep forward in civilization. The strength of co-operation for the\npropagation of ideas is seen in the persistence with which certain\nnations retain hold on political theories or peculiar features of\ncharacter; it is seen in the recurring formation of philosophic\nschools or religious sects or guilds, as soon as any new truth,\nintellectual or religious, has been discovered, or any moral quality,\nsuch as temperance or purity, has needed to be emphasized. The most\nindividualistic of Christian sects have found themselves forced to be\necclesiastical, to define their creeds and to perfect their\norganization, as soon as they have begun to be missionary.\n\nThese principles are as wide as society; but religion takes them up\nand applies them on the highest level. Religion is, almost\nuniversally, the link which binds man to man, no less than that which\nbinds man to a Power above him. So in the Christian Church--if we may\nanticipate, for a moment, our special application of the\nprinciple--the new-born child is taken at once and incorporated into a\nbody of believers; from the first it draws its life from God through\nthe body; it is taught that throughout life it must keep in touch with\nthe body; it must be in a right relation to the other members; it must\ndraw life from them; it must contribute life to them. And, further,\nthis body has existed always and exists still as the home of certain\n_ideas_, ideas about God and about human life, which were revealed in\nJesus Christ, and which it has to attest in its teaching and embody in\nits life. It is to be a body of visible persons, themselves the light\nof the world, expressing so that others can see the manifold wisdom of\nGod, winning others to belief in the unity of God, by the sight of\ntheir own one-ness. The first principle might be expressed in the\nwords of Festus to Paracelsus, when the latter had claimed to be God's\nspecial instrument in the world;\n\n                  Were I elect like you,\n  I would encircle me with love, and raise\n  A rampart of my fellows: it should seem\n  Impossible for me to fail, so watched\n  By gentle friends who made their cause my own\n  They should ward off fate's envy:--the great gift,\n  Extravagant when claimed by me alone,\n  Being so a gift to them as well as me[334]:\n\nthe second principle by lines applied originally to the Incarnation,\nbut which we may legitimately transfer to the Church, which continues\nthe work of the Incarnation,\n\n  And so the Word had breath, and wrought\n    With human hands the Creed of Creeds\n    In loveliness of perfect deeds,\n  Store strong than all poetic thought[335].\n\nBut, further, religion adds a third application of its own to this\nprinciple of co-operation: for a church grows also out of the\nnecessities of worship. The ritual needed for the offering of\nsacrifice almost necessitates of itself a number of persons for its\nperformance. No doubt, an individual can worship God in private, but\nso his worship tends to be self-centred and narrow: for the full\nexpression of his religious relation to others, for expiating a wrong\ndone by him to his neighbours or to the whole community, for\nexpressing gratitude for mercies which have come to him through\nothers, there must be the common meeting: and the community as a whole\nhas its great victories for which to thank God, its national dangers\nfor which to pray, its national sins for which to offer expiation; and\nhence, common religious acts have been the universal accompaniment of\nnational life, and have in their turn reacted upon it.\n\nThe idea of a Church, then, as conceived in its most general form, and\nwithout especial reference to the Christian Church, is this, that it\nwidens life by deepening the sense of brotherhood; that it teaches,\nstrengthens, and propagates ideas by enshrining truth in living\nwitnesses, by checking the results of isolated thinkers by contact\nwith other thinkers, and by securing permanency for the ideas; and\nthat it expands and deepens worship by eliminating all that is selfish\nand narrow, and giving expression to common aims and feelings.\n\nWe pass from such _\u00e0 priori_ ideas to the evidence of the Bible. There\nwe find that these principles were embodied first in Judaism. There\nthe whole nation was the Church. The Jew entered into the religious\nprivileges of his life, not by any conscious act of his own, but by\nbeing born of Jewish parents; he retained his true life by remaining\nin contact with his nation. The union of the different members of the\nnation with each other is so intimate that the whole nation is spoken\nof as a personal unit. It is called 'God's Son, His 'first-born Son,'\n'Jehovah's servant.' The ideal of prophecy is essentially that of a\nrestored nation rejoicing in the rule of national righteousness.\nAgain, the nation was chosen out specially to bear witness to truth,\ntruth about the nature of God, the Almighty, the Eternal, the Holy;\ntruth embodied in the facts of history, and deepened in the\nrevelations of prophecy; truths which the fathers teach their\nchildren, 'that they should not hide them from the children of the\ngenerations to come[336].' In the striking phrase of S.\u00a0Athanasius,\nthe law and the prophets were 'a sacred school of the knowledge of God\nand of spiritual life for the whole world[337].' Their worship, too,\nwas essentially social and national. From the first it centred round\ngreat national events, the fortunes of the harvest, or the crises of\nnational history: the individual was purified from sin that he might\nbe worthy to take part in the national service; the events of the\nnation's history were celebrated in religious hymns; the capital of\nthe nation became the one and only recognised centre for the highest\nworship.\n\nBut Judaism adds to these principles a further principle of its own.\nIt claims that such privileges as were granted to it, were not granted\nto it for its own sake, but that it might be a source of blessing to\nall nations: it assumes that they are on a lower religious level than\nitself; that instead of each nation progressing equally along the line\nof religious life, truth, and worship, other nations have fallen\nbackward and the Jew has been chosen out for a special privilege. It\nis the principle that God works by 'limitation,' by apparent\n'exclusiveness,' by that which is in its essence 'sacerdotalism'; the\nprinciple that God does not give His gifts equally to all, but\nspecially to a few, that they may use them for the good of the whole.\nThis principle seems at first sight to offend some modern abstract\nideas of justice and equality; but the moment we examine the facts of\nlife, we find it prevailing universally. Each nation has its peculiar\ngift: the Greek makes his parallel claim to be specially gifted with\nthe love of knowledge and the power of artistic expression; the Roman\nwith the power of rule and the belief in law. Or, again, within a\nsingle nation, it is the artist who enables us to see the beauty of a\nface or a landscape which had escaped us before:\n\n        Art was given for that,\n  God uses us to help each other so,\n  Lending our minds out.\n\nIt is the poet who interprets our inner nature or the magic of the\nexternal world, and becomes\n\n        A priest to us all\n  Of the wonder and bloom of the world,\n  Which we see with his eyes and are glad:\n\nhe sings\n\n        Till the world is wrought\n  To sympathy with hopes and fears _it heeded not_[338].\n\nAnd this principle does not stop short of religious influences\nConscience is itself a witness to it, as it implies that all parts of\nour nature are not sufficient guides to themselves, but that God has\ngifted one special faculty with power to control the rest. 'Men of\ncharacter,' it has been said, 'are the conscience of the society to\nwhich they belong.' In the Jewish nation itself, the prophets were the\ncircle of Jehovah's friends; they knew His secrets, they kept alive\nthe ideal of the nation. 'What the soul is in the body, that are\nChristians in the world' was the parallel claim of an early\napologist[339]. Analogies crowd in, then, on every side, to shew how\nrational is this claim on the part of Judaism.\n\nRevelation only accepts this fact, and adds to it the assertion that\nit is no accident but a part of the Divine Purpose. It is the result\nof God's election. The Jewish nation, and subsequently the Christian\nChurch, is not only a blessing to the rest of the world, but it is\nconscious that it is a blessing. This truth has been revealed to it\npartly to keep it ever mindful of its sense of dependence upon the\nGiver of all good gifts, partly to give it tenacity and courage to\ncling to a gift which it knows to be of inestimable value for all\nmankind. 'The election was simply a method of procedure adopted by God\nin His wisdom by which He designed to fit the few for blessing the\nmany, one for blessing all[340].'\n\nIt must be from considerations such as these that we approach the\nfoundation of the Christian Church and the Incarnation of our Lord\nJesus Christ on which it rests. We approach it with the expectation\nthat we shall find these principles embodied in it, for Christianity\nsprang directly out of Judaism, and so would naturally inherit its\nprinciples: and to go deeper still, the very essence of the\nIncarnation lies in the consecration of human life and human means. He\nwho before had been acting invisibly upon the world as the Word,\nimplanting life and light in man, now entered visibly into human\nflesh. All tendencies which made for the fulness of life and truth\nbefore His coming, all that tended to enlighten, elevate, combine men,\nhad been His unknown working: now they are known to be His. The\nInfinite appears in finite form; the spiritual takes the material in\nwhich to express itself; human media are consecrated to deeper ends,\nand charged with a fuller meaning than before: so that, in Hooker's\nwords, 'We cannot now conceive how God should, without man, exercise\nDivine power or receive the glory of Divine praise[341].' 'What you do\nnow even after the flesh, that is spiritual' is the bold paradox of\nS.\u00a0Ignatius; and he adds the reason, 'for you do all in Christ\nJesus[342].' Thus--\n\n  In this twofold sphere, the twofold man\n  Holds firmly to the natural, to reach\n  The spiritual beyond it....\n  The whole temporal show related royally\n  And built up to eterne significance\n  Through the open arms of God[343].\n\nThe Incarnation, then, takes up all the three principles of which we\nhave spoken: but, from the very finality which it claims for itself,\nit puts a mark of finality upon each of them, and so, in this respect,\nmarks off the application of them in the Christian Church from all\nother applications of the same principles. The principle of\nco-operation for spiritual life is taken up; the Jewish nation is\nexpanded into an universal brotherhood; this includes all men, without\nany distinction of race; it includes the quick and the dead; it aims\nat the highest spiritual perfection. It is final in this sense, that\nnothing can be wider in extent or deeper in aim; but it is final also\nin the sense that the life _has been_ manifested. Christians do not\ncombine to work up to some unsuspected ideal: they combine to draw out\nand express in their common life the perfection that was in Christ.\nThe principle of association for the propagation of ideas is taken up,\nbut they are truths about God and His relation to human nature: they\nare truths which have been revealed, which have been once for all\ndelivered to the saints. Finally, the principle of association for\nworship is taken up; the worship is made as wide as humanity; it is to\nbe as spiritual as God; but it, too, rests on final facts, on the\nfacts of creation and redemption: it centres round the one complete\nsacrifice for sin.\n\nLet us consider each of these points more in detail.\n\n1. The Church is an organization for the purpose of spiritual life; an\nuniversal brotherhood knit together to build up each of its members\ninto holiness; 'the only great school of virtue existing.' But if this\nis so, if it is universal, is the principle of 'limitation,' of\n'exclusiveness,' gone? Certainly not. It is there, and it is most\ninstructive to notice how it arises[344]. Christ chose a small body of\ndisciples to be in close contact with Himself, to share His work, and\nto receive His deeper teaching. This will not surprise us after the\nanalogies of the prophets, the poets, the artists of the world. The\nsaints too may be few, and God may lend their spirits out for the good\nof others. But, moreover, in the first formation of the Church we are\nable to watch the process of limitation, as historically worked out;\nand we see that it arises not from any narrowness, any grudging of His\nblessings, on the part of Christ, but from the narrowness, the\nlimitations in man. Man is 'straitened' not in God, not in Christ, but\nin his own affections. God willed all men to be saved: Christ went\nabout doing good and calling all to a change of heart, to a share in\nthe kingdom of Heaven: but such a call made demands upon His hearers;\nit required that they should give up old prejudices about the\nMessianic kingdom, that they should be willing to leave father and\nmother and houses and lands for the truth's sake, that they should lay\naside all the things that defile a man, that they should aim at being\nperfect, that they should not only hear but understand the word, that\nthey should trust Him even when His sayings were hard. And these\ndemands produced the limitations. The Pharisees preferred the glory of\nmen to the glory which came from God; the masses in Galilee cared only\nfor the bread that perisheth; many of the disciples turned back; and\nso He could not commit Himself unto them, because He knew what was in\nman. Not to them, not to any chance person, but to the Twelve, to\nthose who had stood these tests, to those who had, in spite of all\nperplexity, seen in Him the Son of the Living God, to them He could\ncommit Himself, they could share His secrets; they could be taught\nclearly the certainty and the meaning of His coming death, for they\nhad begun to learn what self-sacrifice meant; they could do His work\nand organize His Church; they could bind and loose in His Name; they\ncould represent Him when He was gone. These are the elect; they who\nhad the will to listen to the call[345]; they who were 'magnanimous to\ncorrespond with heaven'; to them He gave at Pentecost the full\nconscious gift of the Holy Spirit, and so at last formed them into the\nChurch, the Church which was to continue His work, which was to convey\nHis grace, which was to go into the whole world, holding this life as\na treasure for the sake of the whole world, praying and giving thanks\nfor all men, because the unity of God and the unity of the mediation\nof Christ inspires them with hope that all may be one in Him[346].\n\nThe day of Pentecost was thus the birthday of the Church. Before there\nwere followers of the Lord; now there was the Church: and this as the\nresult of a new act, for which all that preceded had been but\npreparation: now the Church was born in becoming the possessor of a\ncommon corporate life. The Spirit was given to the whole body of\nChristians together: it was not given to an individual here and there\nin such a way that such Spirit-bearing individuals could then come\ntogether and form a Church. It was given corporately, so that they who\nreceived the Spirit realized at once a unity which preceded any\nindividual action of their own. So the Church has gone forth offering\nits message freely to all; in Christ Jesus there is neither Jew nor\nGentile; the message is given openly, 'without any veil,' to all; all\nare accepted who will submit themselves to Baptism, i.e. all who\nrecognise the element of evil and of weakness in their own life, who\nare willing to die to it and receive fresh life and strength from the\nRisen Lord, and to submit their life to His discipline. That is the\nChurch as presented to us in the New Testament. Metaphor after\nmetaphor is lavished upon it by our Lord and by S.\u00a0Paul in order to\nmake clear the conception of it. He is the Vine, His disciples are the\nbranches; they draw all their life from Him: apart from Him they can\ndo nothing; if in union with Him, they bear fruit. The Church is a\nhousehold, a scene of active work, of 'skilled and trained activity':\neach member with his own work, some as mere members of the household,\nothers as rulers set over the household to give them meat in due\nseason, each with talents to be used faithfully for the Master. It is\na family, in which 'all ye are brethren,' laying obligations of love\nbetween brother and brother, calling out self-sacrifice for the good\nof others, deepening in each the sense of the value of the lives of\nothers. It is the Body of Christ, that which grows stronger and\nstronger, that which draws its life from the Head and must hold to\nHim, that in which Christian is linked to Christian in sympathy and\ncomplete interdependence, that without which the Head would be\nincomplete, the necessary organ for completing Christ's work on earth,\nthat which the Spirit takes as its channel for manifesting to the\nworld the very 'life of God.' It is God's Temple; visible, made up of\nparts, which are fitted in to one another in symmetry; beautiful with\na spiritual beauty; for there a living God is present; there He speaks\nto His own; there they offer to Him a rational service[347]. It is the\nBride of Christ, the dearest object of Christ's love, which gives\nherself to Him for His service, which for His sake keeps herself pure\nin life and doctrine; which receives from Him all the treasures of His\nlove, so that as He had received the fulness of God, 'the aggregate of\nthe Divine attributes, virtues, and energies' from the Father, the\nChurch receives all this from Him and manifests it forth to the world\nof men and of angels.\n\nBut this picture, it will be urged, is only a prophecy of the future;\nthe evidence of S.\u00a0Paul's Epistles will also shew us a very different\nscene in real life, a body with tendencies to divisions, to\nselfishness, to sin. This is quite true, but the ideal is never\nthought of as something different from the real; the ideal is not\nsimply in heaven nor the real simply on earth; the real is the ideal,\nthough not yet completely developed; the ideal is the actual basis of\nthe real as much as the goal to which the real is tending. The members\nof the Church have been consecrated; they are holy; they are\n'unleavened'; they have put on Christ; they have by their\nself-committal to Him received a righteousness which they can work out\ninto perfection. Again, they _are_ brothers; they have been made\nchildren of God by adoption: as they have realized the sense of\nsonship, they realize also the closeness of the tie between themselves\nand the other sons, their common sympathies, hopes and aims. True,\nthey are not yet perfect either in holiness or in love: the very\npurpose of the Church is to make them perfect. It takes the individual\nat his birth, it incorporates him into its own life, it watches over\nhim from beginning to end, it feeds him with spiritual food, it\ndisciplines him by spiritual laws, it blesses him at all the chief\nmoments of life, it takes him away from his own isolation, trains him\nin social aims and social duties by social sacraments, finally, gives\nhim back to God with its benediction.\n\nSuch a conception of the Church as a nursery, a school, a home,\nimplies of necessity that it should be visible, and that it should be\none. It is a visible body, because it has in some sense to represent\nthe Incarnate Lord. In the Incarnation spirit took material form and\nexpressed itself thereby; in the risen Lord--and it is the risen Lord\nwho gives the Spirit to the Church--there was still a spiritual body.\nThis is not to deny the invisible reality of spiritual unity which\nunderlies the external visible unity. It is only to say that\ncompleteness means both. In the language of S.\u00a0Ignatius, as Christ\nJesus was at once material and spiritual, so, the unity of the Church\nshould be at once material and spiritual[348].\n\nThe idea of an invisible Church to express the body of true believers,\nwho alone are the Church, to whatever community they belong, so that\nthe visible Church becomes an unimportant thing, is an idea entirely\nat variance with Scripture and all pre-reformation teaching. The\nphrase is first found in almost contemporary writings of Luther and of\nZwingli; it is akin to the teaching of Hus and of Wiclif; and, no\ndoubt, there are thoughts and phrases in earlier writers that are more\nor less akin to it. From the first there was obviously a distinction\nbetween the true and untrue Christian, between the spiritual and the\nfleshly, between the vessels to honour and the vessels to dishonour,\nand the first of these classes, those who persevere to the end, whom\nman cannot know and God only knows, those who, if thought of in the\nlight of God's eternal purposes, are the predestined, these were\ntreated and spoken of as 'the Church properly so called,' 'the true\nbody of Christ.' Christians 'who do the will of the Father will belong\nto the first Church, the spiritual Church founded before the sun and\nmoon.' Those who have lived in perfect righteousness according to the\nGospel 'will rest in the holy hill of God, in the highest Church, in\nwhich are gathered the philosophers of God[349].'\n\nAgain, the Church on earth is regarded as 'a copy of the Church in\nheaven in which God's will is done': but in each case there is no\ncontrast between the visible and the invisible Church. The invisible\nChurch is in these cases either the ideal of the visible; or that part\nof the visible organized Church which has remained true to its aims.\nSo too with regard to those who are not conscious believers; the\npossibility of their salvation, in a qualified way, is heartily\nrecognised, but the confusion is not made of calling them members of\nthe Church.\n\nThe fatal danger is when the belief in the invisible Church is used to\ndiscredit the visible Church and the importance of belonging to it. It\nis scarcely too much to say, that all stress laid upon the invisible\nChurch tends to lower the demands of holiness and brotherhood. It is a\nvisible Church, and such a Church as can attract outsiders, which\ncalls out the fruits of faith into active energy; it is a visible\nChurch such as can combine Christians in active work, which tests\nbrotherhood, which rubs away idiosyncrasy, which destroys vanity and\njealousy, which restrains personal ambition, which trains in the power\nof common work, which, as our own powers fail, or are proved\ninadequate, for some task on which our heart had been set, still fills\nus with hope that God will work through others that which it is clear\nHe will not work through us. It is a visible Church alone which is\n'the home of the lonely.' Encompassed as we are now from our birth by\nChristian friends and associations, we tend to forget how much we\ndepend on the spiritual help and sympathy of others. The greatness of\nour blessings blinds us to their presence, and we seem to stand in our\nown strength while we are leaning upon others. The relation of the\nsoul to God is a tender thing; personal religion, which seems so\nstrong, while in a Christian atmosphere, tends to grow weak, to\ntotter, to fall, as we stand alone in some distant country, amid low\nmoral standards and heathen faiths. Such solitude does indeed often,\nin those who are strong, deepen, in a marvellous way, the invisible\ncommunion with God and the ties that knit us with the absent; but the\nresult is often fatal to the weak. It throws both strong and weak\nalike into closer sympathy with those who share a common faith. It is\na visible Church which supplies this sympathy, which gives the\nassurance that each soul, as it is drawn to God, shall not stand\nalone; but that it shall find around it strengthening hands and\nsympathetic hearts, which shall train it till, as in the quiet\nconfidence of a home, it shall blossom into the full Christian life.\n\nThe principle of the unity of the Church is very similar. That, again,\nis primarily and essentially a spiritual unity. The ultimate source\nis, according to the Lord's own teaching, the unity of the Godhead:\n'that they may be one, even as we are one.' The effect of the\noutpouring of the Spirit is to make the multitude of them that\nbelieved 'of one heart and one soul.' Baptism becomes the source of\nunity, 'In one Spirit were we all baptized into one body:' the 'one\nbread' becomes the security of union. 'We who are many are one bread,\none body, for we all partake of the one bread.' More fully still is\nthe unity drawn out in the Epistle to the Ephesians. 'There is one\nbody and one Spirit, even as ye are called in one hope of our calling,\none Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all.' The\nunity starts with being spiritual; it is the power of the One God\ndrawing men together by His action upon their spirits; uniting them in\nthe service of one Lord who has redeemed them, but it issues in 'one\nbody.' Nothing can be stronger than the assertion of such unity. But\nin what does this unity lie, and what is to be the safeguard of it? No\none answer is possible to this question. Clearly, one part of the\nanswer is, a unity of spiritual aim, 'one hope of your calling:'\nanother answer is, a common basis of belief, common trust in the same\nLord, 'one faith;' a further answer is, common social sacraments, 'one\nbaptism,' 'one bread.' All these lie on the face of these passages of\nS.\u00a0Paul. Are we to add to them 'a common government,' 'an apostolical\nsuccession?' Was this of the essence or a late addition, a result of\nsubsequent confederation intended to guarantee the permanence of\ndogma? No doubt, the circumstances of subsequent history moulded the\nexact form of the ministry, and emphasized the importance of external\norganization under particular circumstances; but this is no less true\nof the other points of unity; the unity of spiritual life was worked\nout in one way in the times of public discipline and penance, in\nanother way when these fell into disuse: the unity of faith was\nbrought into prominence in the times of the formulating of the Creeds.\nSo the unity of external organization was emphasized when it was\nthreatened by the Gnostic, Novatian, and Donatist controversies. But\nthe germ of it is there from the first, and it was no later addition.\nThe spiritual unity derived from the Lord is imparted through\nSacraments; but this at once links the inward life and spiritual unity\nwith some form of external organization. And so the writer of the\nEpistle to the Ephesians after his great description of Christian\nunity, goes on at once to speak of the ministry. The apostles,\nprophets, evangelists, pastors, teachers, these are special gifts of\nthe ascended Lord to the Church; and they are given for the very\npurpose of securing unity, 'for the perfecting of the saints unto the\nwork of ministering, unto the building up of the body of Christ, till\nwe all attain unto the unity of the faith.' No less significantly,\nwhen S.\u00a0Paul is applying to the Church the metaphor of the body and\nits members in order to emphasize the unity of the whole, does he rank\napostles, prophets, teachers, as the most important members of the\nbody[350].\n\nThe history of the early Church, so far as it can be traced, points\nthe same way. The Lord appointed His body of twelve: He gave them the\npower to bind and to loose, the power to exercise discipline over\noffending members of the Church. At first, the Christian Church is a\npurely Jewish body; it continues in the Apostles' fellowship as well\nas doctrine; they distribute its alms; they punish unworthy members;\nthey arrange its differences; they appoint subordinate officers; they\nratify their actions, and sanction the admission of Samaritans and\nproselytes to the Church; but the various members throughout Judea,\nGalilee, and Samaria, are embraced in the single conception of one\nChurch[351]. Then under the guidance of Paul and Barnabas, the\nGentiles are brought in and formed into churches; the danger to unity\nbecomes acute. According to the Acts of the Apostles, it is surmounted\nby reference to the Church at Jerusalem; the Apostles and Elders there\ndecide the question, and the Gentile Churches are thus kept in\ncommunion with it. S.\u00a0Paul's letters, with all the difficulty there is\nof reconciling every detail with the historian's account, present us\nwith essentially the same picture. In dealing with his own Churches,\nhe claims absolute right, as apostle, to hand on and lay down\ntraditions, to punish, to forgive, to govern: he leaves some class of\nministers in every Church under his guidance; each Church is to\nadminister discipline over unworthy members. But the Churches cannot\nact independently: the Church at Corinth is not to act as though it\nwere the fountain head of Christianity, or the only Gentile Church; it\nis to remember the customs in other Churches. Further than this, above\n'all the Churches,' appears already as one body 'the Church,' in which\nGod has set apostles[352]; within it there are separate spheres of\nwork, Paul and Barnabas are to go to the Gentiles, the leading Jewish\napostles to the Jews; S.\u00a0Paul will not intrude beyond the province\nassigned to him; he makes his Gentile Churches to contribute to the\nneeds of the Jewish Church, and realize the debt which they owe to\nthem. Any divisions in a local Church cannot be tolerated, as being\ninconsistent with the unity of Christ, with His cross, and with the\nsignificance of baptism. Peter stands condemned when he wishes to\nseparate himself and so causes division between Jew and Gentile.\n\nThe importance attached to external organization is surely implied in\nall of this, and the circumstances of the second century forced out\ninto clearness what was so implied. Gnosticism, Montanism, Novatianism\nall tended to found new bodies, which claimed to be the true Church.\nHow was the individual Christian to test their claims? It was in the\nface of this question that Church writers, notably S.\u00a0Cyprian and\nS.\u00a0Irenaeus, emphasized the importance of historical continuity in the\nChurch as secured by the apostolical succession of the episcopate. The\nunity of the Church came primarily, they urged, from God, from heaven,\nfrom the Father; it was secured by the foundation of the Church upon\nthe Apostles; the bishops have succeeded to the Apostles and so become\nthe guardians of the unity of the Church. As soon then as we find the\nChristian episcopate universally organized, we find it treated as an\ninstitution received from the Apostles and as carrying with it the\nprinciple of historic continuity. So it has remained ever since, side\nby side with the other safeguards of unity, the sacraments and the\ncommon faith. The Roman Church has added to it what seemed a further\nsafeguard of unity, the test of communion with itself; but this was a\nlater claim, a claim which was persistently resented, and which was\nurged with disastrous results. The Reformed Churches of the Continent,\nin their protest against that additional test, have rejected the whole\nprinciple of historic continuity; they have remained satisfied with\nthe bond of a common faith and of common sacraments: but the result\ncan scarcely be said to be as yet a securer unity. Even an Unitarian\nhistorian recognises heartily that the characteristic of the Church in\nEngland is this continuity. 'There is no point,' urges Mr. Beard[353],\n'at which it can be said, here the old Church ends, here the new\nbegins.... The retention of the Episcopate by the English Reformers at\nonce helped to preserve this continuity and marked it in the\ndistinctest way.... It is an obvious historical fact that Parker was\nthe successor of Augustine, just as clearly as Lanfranc and Becket.'\n\nThis, then, is what the Church claims to be as the home of grace, the\nchannel of spiritual life. It claims to be a body of living persons\nwho have given themselves up to the call of Christ to carry on His\nwork in the world; a body which was organized by Himself thus far that\nthe Apostles were put in sole authority over it; a body which received\nthe Spirit to dwell within it at Pentecost; a body which propagated\nitself by spiritual birth; a body in which the ministerial power was\nhanded on by the Apostles to their successors, which has remained so\norganized till the present day, and has moved on through the world,\nsometimes allied with, sometimes in separation from the State, always\nindependent of it; a body which lays on each of its members the duty\nof holiness, and the obligation of love, and trains them in both.\n\nBut two objections arise here, which must be dealt with shortly. It is\nurged first, this is an unworthy limitation: we ought to love all men;\nto treat all men as brothers; why limit this love, this feeling of\nbrotherhood to the baptized, to the Church? True, we ought to love and\nhonour all men, to do good to all men. The love of the Christian, like\nthe love of Christ, knows no limits; but the limitations are in man\nhimself. All human nature is not lovable: all men are not love-worthy.\nLove must, at least, mean a different thing; it must weaken its\nconnotation if applied to all men; there may be pity, there may be\nfaith, there may be a prophetic anticipating love for the sinner and\nthe criminal, as we recall their origin and forecast the possibilities\nof their future; but love in the highest sense, love that delights in\nand admires its object, love that is sure of a response, the sense of\nbrotherhood which knows that it can trust a brother--these are not\npossible with the wanton, the selfish, the hypocrite. Though man has\nsocial instincts which draw him into co-operation with others; he has\nalso tendencies to selfishness and impurity which work against the\nspirit of brotherhood and make it impossible. Not till we have some\nsecurity that the man's real self is on the side of unselfishness, can\nwe trust him; and baptism with its gifts of grace, baptism with its\ndeath to the selfish nature, baptism with its profession of allegiance\nto the leadership of Christ, this, at least, gives us some security.\nEven Comte, with his longing for brotherhood, tells us that in forming\nour conception of humanity we must not take in all men, but those only\nwho are really assimilable, in virtue of a real co-operation towards\nthe common existence, and Mr. Cotter Morison would eliminate and\nsuppress those who have no altruistic affection. We limit, then, only\nso far as seems necessary to gain reality; we train men in the\nnarrower circle of brotherhood, that they may become enthusiasts for\nit, and go forth as missionaries to raise others to their own level.\nAs for those who lie outside Christianity, the Church, like our Lord\nHimself in the parable of the sheep and the goats, like S.\u00a0Paul in his\nanticipation of the judgment day, recognises all the good there is in\nthem; like Justin Martyr and many of the early Fathers, it traces in\nthem the work of the Divine Word; and yet none the less did these\nwriters claim and does the Church still claim for itself the conscious\ngift of spiritual life, in a sense higher than anything that lies\noutside itself.\n\nBut many, who would follow thus far, would draw another line, and\nwould include within the Church all the baptized, whether professing\nchurchmen or not. Once more, so far as we draw any distinction within\nthe limits of the baptized, it is for the sake of reality. We\nrecognise that every atom of their faith is genuine, that so far as\nthey have one Lord, one faith, one baptism, they are true members of\nthe Church; that so far as they have banded themselves together into a\nsociety, they have something akin to the reality of the Church, and\ngain some of its social blessings. But then it is they who have banded\nthemselves together into a society: and that means they have done it\nat their own risk. We rest upon the validity of our sacraments,\nbecause they were founded by the Lord Himself, because they have His\nspecial promises, because they have been handed down in regular and\nvalid channels to us. Have they equal security that their sacraments\nare valid? Again, we must hold that schism means something of evil:\nthat it causes weakness: that it thus prevents the full work of\nbrotherhood, of knitting Christian with Christian in common worship:\nthat so it prevents the complete witness of the Church in the world;\nthat in so far as such Christians are schismatic, they are untrue and\nharmful members of the Church. The full complete claim of the Church\nis that it is a body visibly meeting together in a common life, and\nforming by historical continuity a part of the actual body founded by\nour Lord Himself. It would be unreal to apply this conception of a\ncomplete historic brotherhood to those who have separated themselves\nfrom the Church's worship, and whose boast is that they were founded\nby Wesley, or Luther, or Calvin. A Church so founded is not\nhistorically founded by Christ. It may have been founded to carry on\nthe work of Christ, it may have been founded in imitation of Him, and\nwith the sincerest loyalty to His person, but it cannot be said to\nhave been founded by Him. Even if circumstances have justified it, it\nis at any rate not the ideal; and whatever confessions the historic\nChurch may have to make of its own shortcomings, it still must witness\nto the ideal of a visible unity and historical continuity. Amid the\ndivisions of Christendom, and in face of her own shortcomings, the\nChurch of England does not claim to be the full complete\nrepresentation of the Church of Christ. She is only one national\nexpression of the Catholic Church: she feels that 'it is safer for us\nto widen the pale of the kingdom of God, than to deny the fruits of\nthe Spirit[354];' she has ever on her lips the prayer, 'Remember not,\nLord, our offences, nor the offences of our forefathers, neither take\nvengeance of our sins,' and yet she must make her claim boldly and\nfearlessly to have retained the true ideal of the Church; to be loyal\nto the essential principle that her life comes historically from\nChrist and not from man.\n\n\nII. But the Church is the school of truth as well as the school of\nvirtue. Its ministers form a priesthood of truth as well as a\npriesthood of sacrifice. Its priests' lips have 'to keep knowledge.'\nChristianity is, as the School of Alexandria loved to represent it, a\nDivine philosophy, and the Church its school.\n\nThis conception of the Church starts from our Lord's own words. His\nApostles are to be as scribes instructed unto the kingdom of Heaven;\nthey are to have the scribes' power to decide what is and what is not\nbinding in the kingdom; the Spirit is to lead them into all truth;\nthey are to make disciples of all the nations, 'teaching them to\nobserve all things whatsoever I commanded you.' The function of the\nChurch then with regard to truth is primarily to bear witness to that\nwhich has been revealed. It does not primarily reveal, it tells of the\ntruths which have been embodied in the historic life of Jesus Christ\nor explained in His teaching. 'One is its teacher; One is its master,\neven the Christ.' It holds a 'faith once delivered to the saints.'\nHence, from the first, there grew up some quasi-authoritative formula,\nin which we can see the germ of the later Creeds, which each Christian\nMissionary would teach to his converts. S.\u00a0Paul himself received from\nothers and handed on to the Corinthians, as his first message to them,\nsome such half-stereotyped Creed, narrating the central facts of the\nDeath and Resurrection of the Lord; his teaching was as a mould which\nshaped the lives of the converts as they were poured, like so much\nmolten metal, into it. It was authoritative, not even an angel from\nheaven could preach another gospel. As time went on and false teaching\nspread, this side of the Church's work is emphasized more and more.\nThe Church is to be the pillar and ground-work of the truth. Timothy\nand Titus are to hold fast the deposit, to prevent false teaching, to\nsecure wholesomeness of doctrine no less than sobriety of life.\n\nThe contests of the next centuries bring out this idea of witness into\nclearer prominence, and the Episcopate, as it had been the guarantee\nof unity, becomes now the guarantee of truth. Thus, S.\u00a0Ignatius is\nface to face with Docetic and Gnostic teaching; with him the bishops\nare 'in the mind of Jesus Christ;' they are to be treated 'as the\nLord;' to avoid heresy, it is necessary to avoid 'separation from the\nGod of Jesus Christ, from the Bishop and the ordinances of the\nApostles;' the one bishop is ranked with the one Eucharist, the one\nflesh of Jesus Christ, the one cup, the one altar, as the source of\nunity; submission to the Bishop and the Presbyters is a means towards\nholiness, towards spiritual strength and spiritual joy[355]. These are\nincidental expressions in letters written at a moment of spiritual\nexcitement: but the same appeal reappears in calmer controversial\ntreatises. S.\u00a0Irenaeus argues against Gnosticism on exactly the same\ngrounds. Truth is essentially a thing _received_; it was received by\nthe Apostles from Christ. He was the truth Himself; He revealed it to\nHis Apostles; they embodied it in their writings and handed it on to\nthe Bishops and Presbyters who succeeded them; hence the test of truth\nis to be sought in Holy Scripture and in the teaching of those\nChurches which were founded directly by the Apostles[356]. With equal\nstrength Tertullian urges that the truth was received by the churches\nfrom the Apostles, by the Apostles from Christ, by Christ from God; it\nis therefore independent of individuals; it must be sought for in Holy\nScripture, but as the canon of that is not fixed, and its\ninterpretation is at times doubtful, it must be supplemented by the\nevidence of the apostolic Churches; and he challenges the heretics to\nproduce the origin of their churches and shew that the series of\nbishops runs back to some Apostle or apostolic man[357].\n\nThe Church is thus primarily a witness: the strength of its authority\nlies in the many sides from which the witness comes; but the\nexigencies of controversy, and indeed of thought even apart from\ncontroversy, rendered necessary another function in respect to truth.\nThe Church was compelled to formulate, to express its witness in\nrelation to the intellectual difficulties of the time. Christianity is\nindeed essentially a matter not of the intellect, but of the will, a\npersonal relation of trust in a personal God. Its first instinct is,\nas the first instinct of friendship would be, to resent intellectual\nanalysis and dogmatic definition. But as the need of telling others\nabout a friend, or defending him against slander, would compel us to\nanalyse his qualities and define his attractiveness; so it was with\nthe Church's relation to the Lord. It bore witness to the impression\nwhich His life had made upon His followers that He was Divine; it bore\nwitness to the facts of the life that attested it and to His own\nstatements. But the claim was denied; it needed justifying; it needed\nto be shewn to be consistent with other truths, such as the unity of\nGod, and the reality of His own human nature, and so definition was\nforced upon the Church. The germ of such definitions is found in the\nNew Testament; the deeper Christological teaching of the Epistles to\nthe Ephesians and to the Colossians, and of the prologue of S.\u00a0John\nare instances of such intellectual analysis and formulation, and were\nevidently written in the face of controversy. The technical decisions\nof the great councils of the fourth and fifth centuries and their\nexpression in the Nicene and 'Athanasian' Creeds are the outcome of\nthe same tendency. Yet even in them, the Church acts, in a sense, as a\nwitness; the Scriptures are appealed to as the ultimate authority; the\nCreed is the summary of its chief doctrines: the one aim is to secure\nand express the truth witnessed to by churches throughout the world,\nto eliminate novelty and caprice; the new definitions are accepted,\nbecause they alone are felt to express the instinct of the Church's\nworship. By this time the canon of Holy Scripture was fixed. It\nbecomes thenceforth an undying fountain of life from which the water\nof pure doctrine can be drawn. Tradition and development can always be\nchecked by that.\n\nIn the truths then which the Church teaches we may distinguish two\nclasses. First, there are the central truths to which it bears\nabsolute witness; such as the Fatherhood of God, the Person and work\nof Jesus Christ, the Redemption of all mankind, the origin and purpose\nof human life. These it teaches authoritatively. Its conduct is\nexactly analogous to that of a parent teaching the moral law to his\nchildren; teaching the commandments authoritatively at first, till the\nchild can be educated to understand the reason of them. So the Church\nsays to her children, or to those who are seeking after truth 'there\nis an absolute truth in religion as well as in morality: we have\ntested it; generations of the saints have found it true. It is a truth\nindependent of individual teachers; independent of the shifting moods\nof opinion at any particular period; and you must accept it on our\nauthority first. Further, these are truths which affect life,\ntherefore they cannot be apprehended merely by the intellect. You must\ncommit yourself to them; act upon them; there is a time when the\nseeker after truth sees where it lies; then it must cease to be an\nopen question. \"You must seek till you find, but when you have once\nfound truth, you must commit yourself to it[358].\" You must believe\nthat you may understand; but it is _that_ you may understand.' The\ndogma is authoritatively taught, that the individual may be kept safe\nfrom mere individual caprice and fancifulness, but also that he\nhimself may come to a rational understanding of his belief. No doubt\nthe truth is so wide that to the end of our lives we shall still feel\nthe need of guidance and of teaching. 'As long as we live,' said\nCalvin, 'our weakness will not allow us to be discharged from school.'\nLike S.\u00a0Ignatius on his way to martyrdom, the Christian may feel at\nhis dying day, 'Now I begin to be a disciple;' but the aim of the\nChurch is to make each member have a rational hold upon his faith.\nWhen we are young we accept a doctrine because the Church teaches it\nto us; when we are grown up, we love the Church because it taught us\nthe doctrine. 'The Churchman never surrenders his individual\nresponsibility. But he may and must surrender some portion at least of\nhis independence, and he benefits greatly by the surrender[359].'\n'Submission to the authority of the Church is the merging of our mere\nindividualism in the whole historic life of the great Christian\nbrotherhood; it is making ourselves at one with the one religion in\nits most permanent and least merely local form. It is surrendering our\nindividuality only to empty it of its narrowness[360].'\n\nSecondly, there are other truths, which are rather deductions from\nthese central points or statements of them in accordance with the\nneeds of the age; such as the mode of the relation of the Divine and\nhuman natures in Christ, of free-will to predestination, or the method\nof the Atonement, or the nature of the Inspiration of Holy Scripture.\nIf, in any case, a point of this kind has consciously come before the\nwhole Church and been reasoned out and been decided upon, such a\ndecision raises it into the higher class of truths, which are taught\nauthoritatively; but if this is not so, the matter remains an open\nquestion. It remains a question for the theologians; it is not imposed\non individual Christians; though it may at any time become ripe for\ndecision. The very fixity of the great central doctrines allows the\nChurch to give a remarkable freedom to individual opinion on all other\npoints. Practically, how much wider is the summary of the rule of\nfaith as given in Irenaeus (III.\u00a04), or Tertullian (_Praescr._ 13), or\nOrigen (_De Principiis_), or in the Apostles' or Nicene Creed, than\nthe tests of orthodoxy that would be imposed in a modern religious, or\nscientific circle! S.\u00a0Vincent of Lerins is the great champion of\nantiquity as the test of truth; yet he who lays it down that 'to\ndeclare any new truth to Catholic Christians over and above that which\nthey have received never was allowed, nowhere is allowed, and never\nwill be allowed,' also insists on the duty of development, of growth,\nwithin the true lines of the central truths. 'Is there,' he assumes an\nobjector to urge, 'to be no growth within the Church? Nay, let there\nbe growth to the greatest extent; who would be so grudging to man,\nsuch an enemy to God, as to attempt to prevent it; but yet let it be\nsuch that it be growth, not change of the faith.... As time goes on,\nit is right that the old truths should be elaborated, polished, filed\ndown; it is wrong that they should be changed, maimed or mutilated.\nThey should be made clear, have light thrown on them, be marked off\nfrom each other; but they must not lose their fulness, their entirety,\ntheir essential character[361]. So it has happened in the course of\nthe Christian history; doctrines like that of the Atonement have been\nrestated afresh to meet the needs of the age. So it is happening\nstill; doctrines like that of the method of creation or of the limits\nof inspiration are still before the Church. The Church is slow to\ndecide, to formulate: it stands aside, it reiterates its central\ntruths, it says that whatever claims to be discovered must ultimately\nfit in with the central truths; creation must remain God's work; the\nBible must remain God's revelation of Himself; but for a time it is\ncontent to wait, loyal to fact from whatever side it comes; confident\nalike in the many-sidedness and in the unity of truth. While he\naccepts and while he searches, the Churchman can enjoy alike the\ninquiry of truth which is the love-making or wooing of it, the\nknowledge of truth which is the presence of it, and the belief of\ntruth which is the enjoying of it, and all these together, says Lord\nBacon, are the sovereign good of human nature[362].\n\nThus far we have in this part considered the Church's function with\nregard to truth from the point of view of those whom it has to teach.\nIts function is no less important from the point of view of the truth\nitself. As spiritual life is a tender plant that needs care and\ntraining; so spiritual truth is a precious gem, that may easily be\nlost and therefore needs careful guarding. 'The gem requires a casket,\nthe casket a keeper.' Truth is indeed great and will prevail, but not\napart from the action of men: not unless there are those who believe\nin it, take pains about it and propagate it. This is the case even\nwith scientific truths; _\u00e0 fortiori_ therefore, with moral and\nreligious truths which affect life and need to be translated into life\nbefore they can be really understood. The comparative study of\nreligions is shewing us more and more how much of deep spiritual truth\nthere is in heathen religions, but it is shewing us equally how little\npower this truth had to hold its own, how it was overlaid, crushed\nout, stifled. The truth of the unity of God underlies much of the\npolytheism of India, Greece, and Rome; but it is only the philosopher\nand the scholar that can find it there. It is only in the Jewish\nChurch, the nation which stood alone from other nations as a witness\nto the truth, that it retained its hold as a permanent force. The\nFatherhood of God is implied in the very names and titles of most of\nthe chief heathen gods; but what a difference in its meaning and force\nsince the time of Jesus Christ! It is not only that He expanded and\ndeepened its meaning, so that it implied the fatherhood of all men\nalike, and a communication of a spiritual nature to all; it is also,\nand much more, that He committed the truth as a sacred deposit to a\nChurch, each member of which aimed at shewing himself as the son of a\nperfect Father, and which witnessed to the universal Fatherhood by the\nfact of an universal brotherhood.\n\nThe very truths of natural religion, which heathenism tended to\ndegrade, found a safe home within the Church; the knowledge of the\nCreator, His eternal power and Godhead, which the nations had known\nbut lost, because they glorified Him not as God, neither were\nthankful, has been kept alive in the Eucharistic services of the\nChurch, repeating through the ages its praise of the Creator: 'We\npraise Thee, we bless Thee, we worship Thee, we give thanks to Thee,\nfor Thy great glory, O Lord God, heavenly King, God the Father\nAlmighty.'\n\n\nIII. We pass naturally to the third point: the Church is the home of\nworship. It is the Temple of the Lord. As a teaching body, it had\ncarried on and spiritualized the work of the Jewish Synagogue: it also\ntook up and spiritualized the conceptions of prayer and praise and\nsacrifice which clustered round the Jewish Temple. The Body of Christ\nwas to take the place of the Temple when the Jews destroyed it[363].\nAnd here, as in all other respects, the body is the organ and\nrepresentative of the risen Lord. He, when on earth, had been a priest\nin the deepest sense of the word: He, as the representative of the\nFather, had mediated the Father's blessings to man: He, as one with\nman, had become a merciful and faithful high-priest for man; He had\noffered His whole life to God for the service of man; He had by the\noffering of His pure will made purification of sins: He lives still, a\npriest for ever, pleading, interceding for mankind.\n\nAnd so the Church, His body, carries on this priestly work on earth.\n'Sacerdotalism, priestliness, is the prime element of her being[364].'\nShe is the source of blessing to mankind; she pleads and intercedes\nand gives herself for all mankind. Christians, as a body, are 'a royal\npriesthood.' Christ made them 'priests unto His God and Father,' they\ncan 'enter in into the holy place,' like priests, 'with hearts\nsprinkled from an evil conscience and bodies washed with pure water.'\nThey are 'the genuine high-priestly race of God:' 'every righteous man\nranks as a priest:' 'to the whole Church is a priesthood given[365].'\nThis priesthood is exercised throughout life, as each Christian gives\nhis life to God's service, and the whole Church devotes itself for the\ngood of the whole world. But it finds its expression in worship, for\nworship is the Godward aspect of life. It expresses, it emphasizes, it\nhelps to make permanent the feelings that mould life. It is the\nrecognition that our life comes from God: that it has been redeemed by\nGod; it is the quiet joyous resting upon the facts of His love; it is\nthe conscious spiritual offering of our life to God; it is the\nadoration of His majesty. This worship the Church leads and organizes.\n'In the Church and in Christ Jesus' is to be given 'the glory to God\nunto all generations for ever and ever.' In the Apocalypse, it is\npictured as praising God alike for His work in Creation and in\nRedemption. In the Eucharist the Church shews forth the Lord's Death\ntill He come[366]. Hence this act of Eucharistic worship, above all\nothers, has become the centre of unity. In it the Church has offered\nits best to God: all the more external gifts of art, such as\narchitecture, painting, and music, have been consecrated in worship:\nbut deeper still, in it each Christian has taken up his own life, his\nbody and soul, and offered it as a holy, lively, and reasonable\nsacrifice unto God, a service in spirit and in truth: and deeper\nstill, he recognises that his life does not stand alone; through the\ncommon ties of humanity in Christ he is linked on by a strange\nsolidarity with all mankind; his life depends on theirs and theirs on\nhis, and so he offers it not for himself only but for all; in the\npower of Christ he intercedes for all mankind: and deeper still, he\nfeels in the presence of the Holiness of God how unworthy his own\noffering and his own prayers are, and he pleads, he recalls before the\nFather, as the source of his own hope and his own power of\nself-sacrifice, the one complete offering made for all mankind.\n\nSo the Church performs its universal priesthood[367]; so it leads a\nworship, bright, joyous, amidst all the trials and perplexities of the\nworld, for it tells of suffering vanquished; simple in its essence, so\nthat poor as well as rich can rally round it; yet deep and profound in\nits mysteries, so that the most intellectual cannot fathom it. It is\nan universal priesthood, for it needs the consecration of every life:\nand yet this function too of the Church naturally has its organs,\nwhose task it is to make its offerings and to stand before it as the\ntypes of self-consecration. The Church has from the first special\npersons who perform its liturgy, its public ministering to the\nLord[368]. It is in connection with worship, and the meetings of the\nChurch that S.\u00a0Paul emphasizes the need of unity and subordination,\nand dwells upon God's special setting of Apostles, Prophets and\nTeachers in the Church[369]. The Epistle of Clement to the Corinthians\nmay be open to difficult questions of interpretation in its language\nabout the ministry, but this at least is clear that order and\nsubordination are treated as the necessary outcome of love, which is\nof the essence of the Church; that this order and subordination is\nspecially needed in all details of worship; that it had been so in\nJudaism, and must be so, _\u00e0 fortiori_, in the Christian Church; that\nas Christ came from God, so the Apostles from Christ, and their\nsuccessors from them; and therefore it must be wrong to throw off\nsubordination to those who were so appointed and who have blamelessly\noffered the gifts[370]. 'The Church,' said S.\u00a0Augustine, 'from the\ntime of the Apostles, through most undoubted succession of the\nbishops, perseveres till the present moment, and offers to God in the\nBody of Christ the sacrifice of praise[371].' As the teaching function\nof the whole Church does not militate against the special order of\nteachers, so the priestly function of the whole does not militate\nagainst a special order of priests. We cannot speak of those who are\nordained as 'going into the Church'--and it is hard to estimate the\nharm done by that fatal phrase--for that implies that the laity are\nnot of the Church, but we can call them priests in a special sense;\nfor they give themselves up in a deeper way to the service of God;\nthey are specially trained and purified for His service; they are put\nas representatives of the whole Church in a way in which no other is,\nable to know and to sympathize with its wants, its joys, its failings;\nable therefore to intercede for it with God and to bring His blessings\nto it. As the Church stands in relation to the world, so they stand to\nthe Church; they fill up that which is lacking of the afflictions of\nChrist in their flesh for His body's sake which is the Church, whereof\nthey are made ministers; they convey spiritual gifts and benediction\nto the Church.\n\nTo complete the conception of the Church, it would be necessary to add\nthe thought of the Church expectant and triumphant, the presence of\nthe blessed dead. For they too strengthen and complete each aspect of\nthe Church's work. The great cloud of witnesses, the heroes of faith,\nwho watch their brethren on earth, they, by their example, aid the\nspiritual life and strengthen us to lay aside every weight and the sin\nthat doth so easily beset us: their virtues reflect parts of the\nmanifold glory of the Son of Man. With their heirs _noblesse oblige_;\neach Christian born of such ancestry is able to be like the Athenian\nLycurgus, independent of the world, bold and outspoken, because of his\nnoble birth[372]. The record of their writings strengthens the witness\nto the faith once delivered to the saints, and binds us to loyalty to\nthat which has stood the test of ages. They, 'the general assembly and\nchurch of the firstborn enrolled in heaven,' themselves, we believe,\nworship God with a purer worship than ours; the thought of their\npresence in worship, as we join with angels and archangels and all the\ncompany of heaven, lifts our hearts to a wider, more spiritual\nadoration.\n\nBut for our present purpose it is with the Church militant we have to\ndeal: the Church on earth, the visible organ of the risen Lord, the\norgan of redemption, of revelation, of worship; the chief instrument\ndesigned by the Lord for the establishment of the kingdom of Heaven\nupon earth. That is our ideal of it. But what of the reality? of the\nhistorical facts? Has not the Church crushed out individual life and\nfreedom? has it not thrown its shield over laxity? has it not\nrepressed zeal and so driven piety into nonconformity? has it not\ntried to check scientific truth and condemned a Galileo? has it not\nmade worship a matter of form and reduced it to externalism? So its\nopponents ask, and its defenders admit that there is much of truth in\nthese charges. They admit that it has looked very different from its\nideal. 'It has looked like an obscure and unpopular sect; it has\nlooked like a wonderful human institution vying with the greatest in\nage and power; it has looked like a great usurpation; it has looked\nlike an overgrown and worn-out system; it has been obscured by the\noutward accidents of splendour or disaster; it has been enriched, it\nhas been plundered; at one time throned above emperors, at another\nunder the heel of the vilest; it has been dishonoured by the crimes of\nits governors, by truckling to the world, by the idolatry of power, by\ngreed and selfishness, by their unbelief in their own mission, by the\ndeep stain of profligacy, by the deep stain of blood[373].' The Church\nhas, indeed, many confessions to make, of its failure to be true to\nits ideal. But there are several considerations which must be borne in\nmind when we pass judgment upon it.\n\nIn the first place, it was committed to human hands, 'the treasure is\nin earthen vessels;' and while it gains thus in reality, in human\nsympathy, in touching the facts of everyday life, it is exposed to all\nthe risks of imperfection, mistake, perversion. But further, as\nS.\u00a0Augustine said, we still can say, 'Non adhuc regnat hoc regnum.'\nThe Church has never had free play; it has never been in a position to\ncarry out its ideal. At first, a persecuted sect, it had not the\npower; then, when it became established and gained the power, there\nburst into it an influx of half-Christianized converts who lowered its\nmoral level or misunderstood its doctrines; then, with the break up of\nthe Roman Empire, it had to tame and civilize the new races of Europe;\nand finally, the divisions of the Reformation have weakened its\nwitness in the world. But, more important still, the very greatness of\nthe ideal has caused the difficulty of its realization, and has\nexposed itself to caricature and to one-sidedness. The richer, the\nmore many-sided, the more complete an ideal is, the less possible is\nit for any one generation to express it completely, the more likely is\nit that one side of truth will be pressed to the exclusion of some, if\nnot of all the rest.\n\nThis may be tested in each of the points which we have considered. The\nChurch is an organization for spiritual life, for holiness. It makes\nthe bold claim to be the society of saints; but at once there arises\nthe conflict between the ideal and the actual state of men. Press the\nideal, and you will narrow the Church to those who are externally\nleading good lives or who are conscious of conversion to Christ. This\nwas the line taken by the Novatians, by the Donatists, by the\nPuritans, by the Baptists, and the Church was thereby narrowed. On the\nother hand, dwell only on the actual state, the weakness, the failures\nof human nature, and you acquiesce in a low level of morality. The\nChurch aims at being true to both; it will not exclude any from its\nembrace who are willing to submit to its laws; it takes children and\ntrains them; it takes the imperfect and disciplines them; it rejects\nnone, save such as rejoice in their iniquity and deliberately refuse\nto submit to discipline.\n\nBut again, this suggests another class of difficulties, all those\nwhich are associated with the relation of the individual to the\nsociety, difficulties which are parallel to the difficulties in\npolitics, which are not yet solved there, and which are always needing\nreadjustment. Here again it is possible to overpress either side: the\nclaims of the society may be urged to the detriment of the individual,\nthe central organization may crush out national life and give no scope\nfor individual development, and so there arises the imperial\nabsolutism of the mediaeval Church. On the other hand, it is equally\npossible to exaggerate the claims of individualism, of independence,\nof freedom, and the result is division and disaster to the whole\nsociety; the individual is only anxious to save his own soul, and\nreligion is claimed to be only a thing between a man and his God;\ncommon Church life becomes impossible, and the witness of the Church\nto the world, and thereby its power for missionary work, becomes\nweakened. As before, the Church ideal strives to combine both sides of\nthe truth. It values, it insists on, the rights of each individual\nsoul; its mission is to convey the Spirit to it, that is to say, to\nwaken it up to a consciousness of its own individual relation to God,\nits own personal responsibility in God's sight; it does bid each\nindividual save his own soul. But it keeps also before him the claims\nof the society; it says to him that in saving his soul he must lose it\nin service for others; when his soul is saved, it must be used for\nactive service with others in joint work. It does say that the society\nis more important for the world than any one individual member of it,\nand that each individual gets real strength when he speaks and acts\nnot for himself but as representing the society behind him. It is\npossible to think of the Church as an organization existing for the\nspiritual good of the individual; but it is possible also, and it is a\ndeeper view, to think of the individual as existing for the good of\nthe Church, like a singer training himself not to display his own\nvoice but to strengthen the general effect of the whole choir. That is\nthe ideal of the Church, a body which quickens the individual into\nfull conscious life, that the individual may devote his life to the\nservice of the whole. Its life is like that of a great moving flight\nof birds, each with its own life, yet swaying and rising and turning\nas by a common impulse,\n\n  Their jubilant activity evolves\n  Hundreds of curves and circlets, to and fro,\n  Upwards and downwards; progress intricate\n  Yet unperplexed, as if one spirit swayed\n  Their indefatigable flight[374].\n\nThe Church, again, is the teacher of truth; but in the acquisition of\ntruth there are always two elements. There are the fixed facts of\nlife, with which theory deals, and the accumulation of past thought\nupon the facts; there is also the creative spirit which plays upon\nthese, which re-adapts, combines, discovers. The teacher of any\nscience has to convey to his pupil the accumulated theories of the\npast and to quicken in him fresh power of thinking: he speaks first\nwith authority, though of course with assurance that his authority is\nrational, and that the pupil will understand it ultimately. The\nteacher of morality, the parent, teaches even more strongly with\nauthority, though he too trusts that the child will ultimately accept\nthe law on rational grounds. The pupil needs at once a receptive and a\ncritical faculty. The absence or exaggeration of either is equally\nfatal. Here again the Church ideal tries to combine both sides and to\ninsist upon the real unity of all truth, and this makes its task so\ndifficult. At times the whole stress has been laid on the permanent\nelements in the faith, and the result has been, as often in the\nOriental Church, a tendency to intellectual stagnation: at other times\nthe present speaking voice of the Church has been emphasized, and any\ntheory has been hastily adopted as absolutely true, without due\nconsideration of its relation to other truths. At times authority has\nbeen over-emphasized, and the acceptance of dogma has seemed to be\nmade the equivalent of a living trust in a personal God: at others the\nduty of individual search after truth, of individual conviction has\nbeen pressed; the traditions of the past have been ignored; nothing\nhas been of value except that which has commended itself to the\nindividual reason, and the result has been confusion, uncertainty, the\ndenial of the greatness and the mystery and the width of truth, and\ntoo often a moral and spiritual paralysis. Meanwhile the Church has\ntried to hold to both sides: it has insisted on the ultimate unity of\nall knowledge: starting from the axiom that One is our teacher, even\nChrist, and believing that all truth comes from His inspiration as the\nWord of God, it has refused to acquiesce in intellectual\ncontradiction; it has ever held, with King Lear, 'that \"ay\" and \"no\"\ntoo is no good divinity.' The truths of philosophy and religion must\nbe one: the truths of science and religion must be one[375]. In the\ndesire to see this, the Church has been hasty, it has rejected\nscientific truth, because it did not fall in with its interpretation\nof the Bible. It has made its mistakes, but it has done so out of a\nnoble principle. It would be easy to gain consistency by sacrificing\neither side; it is hard to combine the two: and this is what the\nChurch has tried to do: it has upheld the belief of the ultimate\nsynthesis of all knowledge. In exactly the same way, the sects have\noften gained force, popularity, effectiveness for the moment by the\nemphasis laid on some one truth; the Church has gained strength,\nsolidity, permanence, by its witness to the whole body of truth.\n\nThe same tendency may be shortly illustrated with regard to the\nfunction of worship. That too is a complex act; in that there should\nbe the free conscious act of the individual, worshipping in spirit and\nin truth a God whom he knows as a personal God; but clearly this is\nnot all; the whole society must express its corporate life in\ncorporate worship. Its influence is something over and above the\ninfluence of its individual members, and that influence must be\nexercised on the side of God; it must be recognised as coming from\nGod; it must be solemnly consecrated to God's service. The society has\na right then to call upon its individual members to join in this\ncorporate action. On the one hand lies the danger of the overpressure\nof the society, where the service of the individual is unwilling or\napathetic: on the other hand the danger of individualism and\nsectarianism, in which the whole conception of public worship is\nlowered and the individual is never trained in religious matters to\nfeel the kindling power of a common enthusiasm, to be lifted above\nhimself in the wave of a common joy. The Church has aimed at combining\nboth; by the insistance on confession and absolution it has tried to\ntrain the individual to a sense of personal penitence and personal\ngratitude: but these have only prepared him to share in the common\nworship of the society.\n\nBut the Church has had to do even more than this. Not only has it\naimed at keeping in due proportion the conflicting elements in life,\nin truth, and in worship; it has also had to keep alive the three\nsides at once, and to keep them in their true relation to each other.\nTo be at one and the same time the home of life and truth and worship,\nthis belongs to its ideal and this adds new difficulties. Sometimes\none element has preponderated, sometimes another: but its aim is\nalways to preserve the three. It has historically preserved the\nsynthesis of the three more than any other Christian body. It has\nmoved through the ages doing its work, however imperfectly. It has\nkept historic continuity with the past: it has disciplined life and\nraised the standard of morality and united the nations of the world.\nIt has been a witness to a spiritual world, to the fact that men have\ninterests above material things, and that these deeper spiritual\ninterests can combine them with the strongest links. It has gone out\nas a _Catholic_ Church, knowing that it contains in its message truths\nthat can win their way to every nation; and therefore it has never\nceased to be a _Missionary_ Church, as it needs that each nation\nshould draw out into prominence some aspect of its truth, and reveal\nin life some side of its virtue. It has enshrined, protected,\nwitnessed to the truth; both as an 'authoritative republication of\nnatural religion,' keeping alive the knowledge of God, and of His\nmoral government of the world[376], and as a revelation of redemption.\nIt has drawn up the canon of Holy Scripture and formulated its Creeds:\nit still witnesses to the unity of knowledge: it has held up before\nthe world an ideal of worship, at once social and individual. Its\ntruths have indeed spread beyond itself, so that men find them now in\nbodies opposed to it; and therefore are perplexed and do not know\nwhere their allegiance is really due. It has indeed been itself often\nuntrue to its mission; but ever and again it has re-asserted itself\nwith a strange recuperative power, for, as the fountain of its life,\nthere is ever the power of the Holy Spirit, sent by the risen Lord; to\ncheck temporary failures or accretions of teachings, there has been\nthe perpetual re-appeal to Holy Scripture and the Creeds; to control\nidiosyncrasies of worship, there has been the permanent element of its\nLiturgies. Its very failures have come from its inherent greatness;\nthey are the proof of great capacities, the omen of a greater future.\nLike S.\u00a0Paul, it holds on its way 'by glory and dishonour, by evil\nreport and good report, as deceiving and yet true, as unknown and yet\nwell-known; as dying and behold it lives; as chastened and not killed;\nas sorrowful yet always rejoicing; as poor and yet making many rich;\nas having nothing and yet possessing all things.'\n\nDoes the world need the witness of the Church's life less now than in\npast ages? Less? nay, for many reasons more. The widening\nopportunities of intercourse are opening up new nations, whose\nexistence had only been suspected before; they are bringing the\nvarious parts of human kind into a closer touch with each other. The\nproblems of civilization are more complex; and the more complicated a\npiece of machinery is, the more difficult it is to keep it in order;\nso small a defect may throw the whole out of gear. The wider our\nknowledge of humanity, the greater need of a Catholic Church, which\nshall raise its voice above the din of conquest and the bustle of\ncommerce, and insist that all races shall be treated with justice and\ntenderness as made of one blood; which shall welcome all men freely\ninto its own brotherhood, and conveying to them the gifts of the\nSpirit, shall help them to shew forth in their lives fresh beauties of\nthe richly-variegated wisdom of God. The growth of our huge towns,\n'where numbers overwhelm humanity,' and the accumulation of wealth\nbring the danger nearer home: amidst social upheavings and the\nstriving of class with class, there is need of a Church to rise above\nrich and poor alike, which shall embrace both; which shall teach both\na real visible brotherhood amid all external inequalities; which shall\nteach the poor the dignity of labour wrought for the good of the whole\nsociety, and teach the rich the duty and the blessing of the\nconsecration of their wealth. With the wider use of machinery and the\nrestless rush of money-getting, it is important that there should be\nthe appeal of the Church that no man or woman shall be degraded into\nbeing a mere machine; because each is a living soul, capable of\npersonal responsibility, capable of a pure life, capable of a\nknowledge of God.\n\nAmid the increasing specialization of studies, amid all the new\ndiscoveries of science and historical criticism, with all the\nperplexities that arise as to the interpretation and inspiration of\nthe Bible, now, if ever, there is need of a Church, which conscious of\nits own spiritual life, knowing that its spiritual truths have stood\nthe test of centuries, has patience and courage to face all these new\nfacts and see their bearing and take their measure; which all the\nwhile shall go on teaching to its children with an absolute but\nrational authority the central facts of the spiritual life, and shall\nnever doubt the ultimate unity of all truth.\n\nAmid the uncertainties of individualism, the fantastic services of\nthose who tend to reduce worship to a mere matter of emotion, amid the\nsorrows and perplexities of modern life, the world needs the witness\nof a rational and corporate worship, which recognises the deepest\nsufferings of human nature enshrined in its very heart, yet recognises\nalso the way in which suffering when accepted freely, is blessed of\nGod; which worships at once a crucified and a risen Lord. Over against\nthe divisions of race and continent the Church raises still its\nwitness to the possibility of an universal brotherhood: over against\ndespair and dispersion it speaks of faith and the unity of knowledge:\nover against pessimism it lifts up a perpetual Eucharist.\n\n[333] The Dean of S.\u00a0Paul's on _The Christian Church_. Oxford House\nPapers, No. xvii. where this truth is excellently worked out and\napplied to the Church.\n\n[334] Browning, _Paracelsus_, ii. p. 30, ed. 1888.\n\n[335] Tennyson, _In Memoriam_, xxxvi.\n\n[336] Ps. lxxviii.\u00a03, 4.\n\n[337] _De Inc._ 12.\n\n[338] Browning, _Fra Lippo Lippi_: M. Arnold, _The Youth of Nature_:\nShelley, _The Skylark_.\n\n[339] _Ep. ad Diogn._ vi.\n\n[340] Bruce, _The Chief End of Revelation_, p. 116.\n\n[341] _Eccl. Pol._ v.\u00a054. Cf. Iren. _adv. Haer._ iii.\u00a020: 'Gloria enim\nhominis Deus; operationis vero Dei et omnis sapientiae Ejus et\nvirtutis receptaculum homo.'\n\n[342] Ign. _ad Eph._ viii. \u1f03 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c3\u03ac\u03c1\u03ba\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03c3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5, \u03c4\u03b1\u1fe1\u03c4\u03b1\n\u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd \u1f38\u03b7\u03c3\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03a7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03c3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5.\n\n[343] _Aurora Leigh_, vii. p. 302.\n\n[344] Cp. H. S.\u00a0Holland, _Creed and Character_, Sermons III-VIII.\n\n[345] \u03a0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03af\u03bd\u03c5\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03ce\u03c0\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b5\u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd, \u03bf\u1f31 \u1f51\u03c0\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2,\n\u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u1f76 \u1f60\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03ac\u03c3\u03b8\u03b7\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd, Clem. Alex. _Strom._ I. xviii.\u00a089.\n\n[346] Cp. 1 Tim. ii.\u00a01-6.\n\n[347] For the whole of this last paragraph cf. H. S.\u00a0Holland, _On\nbehalf of Belief_, Sermons VI and VII.\n\n[348] S.\u00a0Ignatius, _ad Eph._ vii. \u03b5\u1f37\u03c2 \u1f30\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9, \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03c2, as compared with _ad Magn._ xiii. \u1f35\u03bd\u03b1 \u1f15\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f90 \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae \u03c4\u03b5\n\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae.\n\n[349] Pseudo-Clem. Rom. _Ep._ ii.\u00a014; Clem. Alex. _Str._ vi.\u00a014;\niv.\u00a08. For these and other illustrations cf. Seeberg, _Der Begriff der\nchristlichen Kirche_ (Erlangen, 1885), cap. i; and Gore, _Church and\nthe Ministry_, ed. i. pp. 19, 28, 136.\n\n[350] 1\u00a0Cor. xii.\u00a028.\n\n[351] Cp. Acts ix.\u00a031 \u1f21 \u1f10\u03ba\u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03c3\u03af\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u1fbd \u1f45\u03bb\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f38\u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u0393\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03bb\u03b1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2\n\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03a3\u03b1\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2.\n\n[352] 1\u00a0Cor. xii.\u00a028, xv.\u00a09; Gal. i.\u00a013; Phil. iii.\u00a06; Eph. i.\u00a022,\niii.\u00a010, 21; Col. i. 18, 24; 1 Tim. iii.\u00a015.\n\n[353] _Hibbert Lectures_, 1883, p. 311.\n\n[354] Bp. Forbes, _Explanation of the Nicene Creed_, p. 290.\n\n[355] _ad Eph._ ii. iii. vi. xx; _ad Trall._ vii. xiii; _ad Phil._ iv.\nvii; _ad Smyrn._ viii. ix.\n\n[356] Irenaeus, _adv. Haer._, cp. esp. I.\u00a010, II.\u00a09, III.\u00a01, 2, 3, 5,\n12, 24.\n\n[357] _Praescript. adv. Haereticos_; cp. esp. 3, 6, 15-21.\n\n[358] Tertullian. _Praescr._ 9: 'Quaerendum est donec invenias, et\ncredendum ubi inveneris.'\n\n[359] Hawkins' _Sermons on the Church_, p. 77.\n\n[360] Rev. C. Gore, _Roman Catholic Claims_, p. 51.\n\n[361] _Commonitorium_ ix. and xxiii.\n\n[362] Bacon, Essay on _Truth_.\n\n[363] S.\u00a0John ii.\u00a019-21.\n\n[364] From a striking and bold article by Prof. Milligan, in the\n_Expositor_, March, 1889.\n\n[365] 1 S.\u00a0Peter ii.\u00a09; Rev. i.\u00a06; Heb. x. 19. Justin Martyr, _Dialog.\nc. Tryph._ 116; Irenaeus iv.\u00a08; Origen, _Hom. vi. in Lev._ 5. For\nother instances, cp. Seeberg, _ubi sopra_, or Gore, _Church and the\nMinistry_, pp. 87-90.\n\n[366] Eph. iii.\u00a021 (R.V.); Rev. iv.\u00a011, v.\u00a011-14; 1\u00a0Cor. xi.\u00a026.\n\n[367] Cf. the striking account of the true Christian sacrifice in\nS.\u00a0Aug. _De Civ. Dei_, x.\u00a06: 'Profecto efficitur ut tota ipsa redempta\ncivitas, hoc est congregatio societasque sanctorum universale\nsacrificium offeratur Deo per sacerdotem magnum, qui etiam se ipsum\nobtulit in passione pro nobis, ut tanti capitis corpus essemus.... Hoc\nest sacrificium Christianorum, _multi unum corpus in Christo_. Quod\netiam sacramento altaris fidelibus noto frequentat ecclesia, ut ei\ndemonstretur, quod in ea re, quam offert, ipsa offeratur.'\n\n[368] Acts xiii. 1.\n\n[369] 1\u00a0Cor. xi-xiv.; cp. 1 Tim. ii.\n\n[370] Clem, _ad Cor._ 1. esp. 40-45.\n\n[371] _Contra Adv. Leg. et Proph._ xx.\u00a039.\n\n[372] \u03a0\u03b1\u1fe4\u1fe5\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u1f74\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03b5\u1f50\u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd, Plutarch. _Vitae x Orat._ 7.\n\n[373] The Dean of S.\u00a0Paul's, _Advent Sermons_, p. 73.\n\n[374] Wordsworth, _The Recluse_.\n\n[375] Cp. Socrates iii.\u00a016 \u03a4\u1f78 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f78\u03bd, \u1f14\u03bd\u03b8\u03b1 \u1f02\u03bd \u1f96, \u1f34\u03b4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2\n\u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03af\u03bd. S.\u00a0Aug. _de doctr. Chr._ ii.\u00a018: 'quisquis bonus verusque\nChristianus est, Domini sui esse intellegat ubique invenerit\nveritatem.'\n\n[376] Butler's _Analogy_, Pt. ii. ch. 1.\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\n_SACRAMENTS._\n\nFRANCIS PAGET.\n\n\nIt is the characteristic distinction of some men's work that they are\nresolute to take into just account all the elements and conditions of\nthe matter with which they deal. They will not purchase simplicity at\nthe expense of facts; they will not, by any act of arbitrary exclusion\nor unreal abstraction, give up even the most distant hope of some real\nattainment for the sake of securing a present appearance of\ncompleteness. They recognise and insist upon all the complexity of\nthat at which they look; they may see many traits in it to which they\ncan assign no definite place or meaning, but they will not ignore or\ndisparage these; they will not forget them, even though for a while\nthey may have to defer the closer study of them; they will dutifully\nbear them in mind, and carry them along through all their work; they\nwill let them tell with full weight in qualifying, deferring, or\nprecluding the formation of any theory about that of which these\ntraits, trivial or important, explained or unexplained, are a genuine\npart. It is difficult to find a name for this rare and distinctive\nexcellence. But it is that which more than any other quality gives\npermanence and fruitfulness to work: for even the fragmentary and\nloosely ordered outcome of such thought is wont to prove germinant and\nquickening as time goes on. Patience, honesty, reverence, and\nunselfishness, are virtues which appear congenial with such a\ncharacter of mind; and the high, undaunted faith which is the secret\nof its strength and the assurance of its great reward has been told by\nMr. Browning in _A Grammarian's Funeral_:--\n\n  Was it not great? did not he throw on God\n        (He loves the burthen)--\n  God's task to make the heavenly period\n        Perfect the earthen[377]?\n\nIt will be the chief aim of this essay to shew that in the embodiment\nand presentation of Christianity by the Church of Christ there may be\nseen an excellence analogous, at least, to this distinctive\ncharacteristic of the work that all approve as best and truest upon\nearth; that in contrast with many religious systems, attaining a high\ndegree of moral beauty and spiritual fervour, the historic Church\nmeets human life in full front; that it has been taught and enabled,\nin its ministry of Sacraments, to deal with the entirety of man's\nnature, not slighting, or excluding, or despairing of any true part of\nhis being. But it is necessary at the outset to define, in general and\nprovisional terms, the nature and the principle of that element in the\nChurch's faith and life which is here under consideration, and in\nwhich especially this amplitude and catholicity of dealing with human\nnature is to be sought. By the Sacramental system, then, is meant the\nregular use of sensible objects, agents, and acts as being the means\nor instruments of Divine energies, 'the vehicles of saving and\nsanctifying power[378].' The underlying belief, the basal and\ncharacteristic principle of this system, may be thus stated. As the\ninmost being of man rises to the realization of its true life, to the\nknowledge and apprehension of God and of itself, in the act of faith,\nand as He whose Spirit quickened it for that act, greets its venture\nwith fresh gifts of light and strength, it is His will that these\ngifts should be conveyed by means or organs taken from this world, and\naddressed to human senses. His Holy Spirit bears into the faithful\nsoul the communication of its risen Lord's renewing manhood; and for\nthe conveyance of that unseen gift He takes things and acts that can\nbe seen, and words that can be heard; His way is viewless as the wind;\nbut He comes and works by means of which the senses are aware; and His\nhidden energy accepts a visible order and outward implements for the\nachievement of its purpose.\n\nThe limits of this essay preclude the discussion of the larger\nquestions which beset the terms of these definitions. Previous essays\nhave dealt with those truths which are necessarily involved in any\ndeclaration of belief about the Christian Sacraments. The Being of\nGod, the Incarnation of the Eternal Word, the Atonement, the\nResurrection and Ascension of Christ, the Person and Mission of the\nHoly Ghost, these are indeed implied in the Sacramental system of the\nChurch, not simply as component and essential parts of the same\nbuilding, nor as mere logical data, but rather as the activities of\nthe bodily life are pre-supposed in the exertion of the body's\nstrength. But these cannot here be spoken of: it is from preceding\npages of this book that thoughts and convictions must be gathered,\nwithout which much that is here said will seem either unsubstantial,\nor merely technical. It must be owned that the severance of any\nsubject from its context entails not only incompleteness, but also a\ncertain disproportion and obscurity in its treatment; since the lines\nof thought which run out into the context are lines down which light\ncomes, light that is lost if they are closed. Indeed anything like a\nfull presentation or a formal defence of a detached part of Christian\nteaching and practice seems intrinsically very difficult, and within\nthe limits of an essay impossible. There are, however, two questions\nwhich must be asked concerning each several part of the whole\nstructure, and in regard to which something may here be said. The\nfirst is: Does this part match with its surroundings in Christianity;\nis it a harmonious and congenial element in the whole order, in the\ngreat body of doctrine to which it claims to belong? The second is:\nDoes it match with the surroundings on which it claims to act, with\nits environment in human life; is it apt for the purpose to which it\nis addressed and the conditions among which it comes? It is here\nproposed, as has been said, to consider in regard to the Sacramental\nsystem the second especially of these two questions: but its\nconsideration will involve some thoughts which may perhaps be a\nsufficient answer to the first. And thus something may also be gained\nbeyond the range of the present inquiry; for it seems fair to hold\nthat any part of Christian teaching in regard to which both these\nquestions can be answered in the affirmative, has a strong tendency at\nall events to commend the claim of the whole scheme with which it is\ninwoven and essentially continuous. For the perfection of inner\ncoherence in a structure whose main lines, at least, were projected in\nthe world under circumstances which preclude the thought of scientific\nor artificial elaboration, and the perfection of adaptation, not to\nthe wishes and tastes of men, nor to the arrangements of society, but\nto the deepest, fullest, surest truth of humanity; these are\ncharacteristics which we should expect to find in a revelation from\nGod to man, and be surprised to find elsewhere.\n\n\nI. Probably there come to most men who have got beyond the happy\nconfidence of youth, and the unhappy confidence of self-satisfaction,\ntimes at which they seem to themselves to be living in a somewhat\nperplexed and dimly lighted world, with tasks for which their strength\nis insufficient, among problems which they cannot solve. And\nChristianity is held out to them, or has been received by them, as a\nway of life under these circumstances, as a method and a means of\nliving rightly; a system which does not indeed take all the perplexity\nout of the world, or all the difficulties out of their course, but\nwhich will give them light and strength enough to keep in the right\ntrack, to use their time well, to take their proper place, and do\ntheir proper work, and so to move towards the realization of all the\nmany parts and possibilities of their nature; a goal which may seem to\ngrow both larger and more distant the more one thinks about it.\nChristianity professes to be that Divine word, which was faintly\nsurmised of old[379], and in due time was sent forth to bear men\nwisely and surely through this world. Plainly one of the first and\nfairest questions which may be asked in regard to it is, whether it\nshews a perfect understanding of the nature with which it claims to\ndeal, and the life which it claims to guide.\n\nNow when we set ourselves to think what we are for whom a possible and\nsatisfactory way of life is sought, what that nature is, whose right\nprinciples and conditions of development are to be determined, one of\nthe first things which we discern is an apparently invincible\ncomplexity. The life we have to order is a twofold life, it moves\nthrough a twofold course of experience: the facts, the activities in\nwhich we are conscious of it, are of two kinds; and men ordinarily\ndistinguish them as bodily and spiritual. Some such distinction is\nrecognised and understood by the simplest of us: it is imbedded beyond\npossibility of expulsion in all language: stubbornly and successfully\nit resists all efforts to abolish it. We know for ourselves that\neither of the two groups of facts may stand out in clearer light, in\nkeener consciousness, at certain times: we may even for a while, a\nlittle while, lose sight of either of them and seem to be wholly\noccupied with the other: but presently the neglected facts will\nre-assert their rights: neither the one group nor the other may long\nbe set aside without risk of the Nemesis which avenges slighted\ntruths:--the Nemesis of disproportion and disease. We may confuse our\nsense of the distinction; we may shift or blur or bend whatever line\nhad seemed to mark it: we may insist on the qualifying phenomena which\nforbid us to think of any barrier as impenetrable; but we cannot so\nexalt or push forward either realm as utterly to extrude, absorb, or\nannihilate the other: we cannot, with consistency or sanity, live as\nthough our life were merely spiritual or merely bodily. It is as\nimpossible steadily to regard the spirit as a mere function or product\nof the body, as it is to treat the body with entire indifference, as a\ncasually adjacent fragment of the external world. But further, as the\ndistinction of the two elements in our being seems insuperable, so\ndoes their union seem essential to the integrity of our life. Any\nabstraction of one element, as though it could detach itself from the\nother and live on its own resources, is felt to be unreal and\ndestructive of our proper nature. So it has been finely said,\n'Materialism itself has here done valuable service in correcting the\nexaggeration of a one-sided spiritualism. It is common, but erroneous,\nto speak of man's body as being related to his spirit only as is the\ncasket to the jewel which it contains. But, as a matter of fact, the\npersonal spirit of man strikes its roots far and deep into the\nencompassing frame of sense, with which, from the first moment of its\nexistence, it has been so intimately associated.... The spirit can\nindeed exist independently of the body, but this independent existence\nis not its emancipation from a prison-house of matter and sense; it is\na temporary and abnormal divorce from the companion whose presence is\nneeded to complete its life[380].' If we try to imagine our life in\nabstraction from the body we can only think of it as incomplete and\nisolated; as impoverished, deficient, and expectant. And certainly in\nour present state, in the interval between what we call birth and\ndeath, the severance of the two elements is inconceivable: they are\nknit together in incessant and indissoluble communion. In no activity,\nno experience of either, can the other be utterly discarded: 'for each\naction and reaction passing between them is a fibre of that which\nforms their mutual bond[381].' Even into those energies of which men\nspeak as purely spiritual, the bodily life will find its way, will\nsend its help or hindrance: sickness, hunger, weariness, and desire:\nthese are but some of its messengers to the spirit, messengers who\nwill not always be denied. And in every conscious action of the bodily\nlife the presence of the spirit is to be discerned. The merely animal\nfulfilment of merely animal demands, devoid of moral quality, is only\npossible within that dark tract of instinct which lies below the range\nof our consciousness. When once desire is consciously directed to its\nobject, (wherever the desire has originated and whatever be the nature\nof the object,) a moral quality appears, a moral issue is determined:\nand the act of the body becomes an event in the life of the\nspirit[382]. The blind life of brute creatures is as far out of our\nreach as is the pure energy of angels: we can never let the body\nsimply go its own way; for in the essential complexity of our being,\nanother sense is ever waiting upon the conscious exercise of those\nfive senses that we share with lower animals:--the sense of duty and\nof sin.\n\nThus complex are we,--we who crave more light and strength, who want\nto find the conditions of our health and growth, who lift up our eyes\nunto the hills from whence cometh our help. It would be interesting to\nconsider from how many different points of view the complexity has\nbeen recognised, resented, slandered, or ignored; and how steadily it\nhas held its own. It may need some exercise of faith (that is to say,\nof reasonable patience amidst half-lights and fragments) to keep the\ntruth before one, and to allow it its just bearing upon thought and\nconduct, without exaggeration, or self-deception, or one-sidedness;\nbut there is neither health of body nor peace of mind in trifling with\nit.\n\nTo us, then, being thus complex, Christianity presents a plan, a\nprinciple, a rule of life. And that primary and inevitable question\nwhich has been already indicated may therefore take this definite\nform:--Does the scheme proposed to us acknowledge this our complexity?\ndoes it provide for us in the entirety of our nature, with all that we\nfeel to be essential to our completeness? or must a part of our being\nbe huddled out of sight as we enter the precinct of the Church?\n\n\nII. (1) Certainly the whole history and character of the Christian\nRevelation would encourage us to hope that its bearing upon life would\nbe as broad as the whole of human nature; and that no true part of our\nbeing would be excluded from its light, refused its welcome, or driven\nfrom its feast. When we consider how Christianity came into the world,\nit would seem strange and disappointing if its hold on human life were\npartial and not inclusive: if, for instance, the body found no place\nprepared, no help or hope provided for it. This was excellently said\nby Alexander Knox: 'The gospel commenced in an accommodation to man's\nanimal exigencies which was as admirable as it was gracious; and which\nthe hosts of heaven contemplated with delight and wonder. The\nIncarnation of the co-eternal Son, through which S.\u00a0John was enabled\nto declare what he and his fellow Apostles \"had seen with their eyes,\nwhat they had looked upon, and their hands had handled, of the Word of\nLife,\" was in the first instance, so to consult human nature in its\nanimal and sensitive capacity, as to give the strongest pledge that a\ndispensation thus introduced would, in every subordinate provision,\nmanifest the same spirit and operate on the same principle. For could\nit be thought that the first wonderful accommodation of Godhead to the\nsensitive apprehensions of man should be wholly temporary? and that\nthough that mystery of godliness was ever to be regarded as the vital\nsource of all spiritual benefits and blessings, no continuance of this\nwise and gracious condescension should be manifested in the means,\nwhereby its results were to be perpetuated, and made effectual[383]?'\nIt would be possible to follow this mode of thought to a remoter\npoint, and to mark in the revealed relation of the Eternal Word to the\nwhole creation a sure ground for believing that whensoever, in the\nfulness of time, God should be pleased to bring the world, through its\nhighest type, into union with Himself, the access to that union would\nbe as wide as the fulness of the nature in which He made man at the\nbeginning: that the attractive and uplifting bands of love would hold\nand draw to Him every true element of that nature. But it is enough\nfor our present purpose to look steadily at the Advent and the Life of\nChrist: to see how carefully and tenderly every fragment of the form\nHe takes is disentangled from the deforming evil which He could not\ntake: how perfect are the lineaments of the humanity He wears, how\nfreely and clearly all that is characteristic of our nature is\ndisplayed in His most holy life; where 'the hiding of His power,' the\nrestraining of the beams of Deity[384] leaves room for the disclosure\nin Him of whatever weakness and limitation properly belongs to us.\nSurely it would be strange if the grace and truth which came among us\nthus, proved partial or restricted in their later dealing with our\nmanhood: if any tract of our life were unvisited by their light and\nblessing: if anything which He took were slighted in His kingdom,\nforgotten in His ministry, precluded from His worship. The Incarnation\nwas indeed in itself a great earnest of the recognition which would be\naccorded in the Christian life to the whole of our complex nature. But\nthere are, more particularly, two points in the coming and work of our\nLord which seem peculiarly intended to foreshow some abiding elevation\nof the material and visible to share the honour of the spiritual\nelement in our life. They are so familiar to us that it may not be\neasy to do full justice to their significance.\n\n(2) For it does seem deeply significant that when the Word was made\nflesh and dwelt among us, He took up the lines of a history replete\nwith forecasts of the consecration of material things: He met the\ntruest aspirations of a people trained to unhesitating exultation in a\nvisible worship, encouraged by manifold experience to look for the\nblessings of Divine goodness through sensible means, accustomed and\ncommanded to seek for God's especial presence in an appointed place\nand amidst sights on which their eyes would rest with thankful\nconfidence. That Church and nation 'of whom as concerning the flesh\nChrist came,' must have seemed indeed irrevocably and essentially\ncommitted to the principle that when man is brought near to God it is\nwith the entirety of his manhood: that God is to be glorified alike in\nthe body and in the spirit: and that His mercy really is over all His\nworks. Doubtless barriers were to be broken down, when the time of\nprophecy and training passed on into the freedom of realization:\nlimitations were to be taken away, distinctions abrogated by Him in\nWhom is neither Jew nor Greek, neither bond nor free, neither male nor\nfemale: but religion would surely have grown in reality _narrower_ and\nnot wider, if the body had been dismissed from its duty and gladness\nin the light of God's countenance, if the spirit alone had been bidden\nto draw near, to worship, to taste and see how gracious the Lord is.\nThrough all the amplitude of the Christian dispensation, there would\nhave been a sense of loss, of impoverishment, of expectation\nencouraged and unsatisfied, had this been so; for in the preparatory\nsystem of Judaism, whatever had been lacking, still the whole nature\nof man had felt the Hand of God and heard His Voice. It would have\nseemed strange if with the wider extension of God's light to all the\nworld there had been a narrowing of its range in the life of each\nseveral man[385].\n\n(3) And then, again, it is to be marked that our Lord Himself by\nrepeated acts sustained and emphasized this acceptance of the visible\nas the organ or vehicle of the Divine. His blessing was given by the\nvisible laying on of hands, and His miracles were wrought not by the\nbare silent energy of His Almighty will, not even in many cases by the\nmere utterance of His word, but through the employment of acts or\nobjects, impressive to the bodily element in man, and declaring the\nconsecration of the material for the work of God. Alike in the\nblessings bestowed and in the manner of their bestowal men must have\nfelt that there was with Him no disparagement of the body, no\nforgetfulness of its need, no lack of care for its welfare, its\nhonour, or its hope. Perhaps it may even be that had we watched the\nscene in the Galilean town as the sun was setting, and in the cool of\nthe evening they that had any sick with divers diseases brought them\nunto Him; as He moved about among those wasted, suffering forms, and\non one after another laid His hands and healed them; it may even be\nthat what would have struck us first of all would have been the\nbringing in of a better hope for the bodily life of man and the\nreplenishing of a familiar act, a common gesture, with a grace and\npower that it had but vaguely hinted at before.\n\nWe have, then, (1) in the Incarnation of the Son of God, (2) in the\nessential character of the history ordered as an especial preparation\nfor His coming, and (3) in certain conspicuous features of His\nministry on earth, a strong encouragement to expect that in the life\nthus brought into the world, in the way thus opened out, there would\nbe evinced a large-hearted care for the whole nature of men: that no\nunreal abstraction would be demanded, and no part of humanity be\ndisinherited: that in the choice of its means, in the scope of its\nbeneficence, and in the delineation of its aim, Christianity would\ndeal with us as we are, and prove that God has not made us thus for\nnought. An endeavour will be made to shew how this great hope is\ngreeted in the Sacramental system, and uplifted and led on towards the\nend of all true hope. But it seems necessary first to adduce the\ngrounds for saying that that system has been from the beginning an\nintegral part of Christianity.\n\n\nIII. When we turn to look at the presentation of the Sacramental\nprinciple in the Gospels, our first impression may be that the place\nit holds there is less than that which is given to it in the teaching\nand practice of the Church: that it is by a disproportionate growth\nthat the doctrine of Sacraments has gained so much space and so great\nprominence in Catholic theology. But the impression certainly ought\nnot to be lasting. For it is due to our forgetfulness of the\nconditions under which Christianity came into the world: the\ncharacteristics and habits of religious thought with which it had to\ndeal. We can draw no reasonable inference from the brevity or length\nwith which a truth is enunciated in the Gospels until we have inquired\nwhat were the previous convictions of those to whom our Lord spoke:\nwhat preparation had in that particular regard been made for His\nteaching. We ought to look for some difference in the manner of\nrevelation corresponding to the difference of need when a wholly new\nprinciple of thought has to be borne into unready minds, and when a\nfresh direction has to be given to an expectation already alert and\nconfident, a new light to be thrown on the true worth and meaning of\nan existing belief about God's ways towards men. Amplitude and\niteration would indeed have been necessary for any teaching which was\nto dislodge the Sacramental principle out of the minds of those among\nwhom our Lord came--to preclude them from seeking the mercy of God\nthrough visible means. But if the Divine purpose was not to destroy\nbut to fulfil; not to discredit as mere misapprehensions the\nconvictions men had received, but to raise and purify them by\ndisclosing the response which God had prepared for them: to disengage\nthem from that which had been partial, preparatory, transient, and to\nfasten them on their true satisfaction: then we might reverently\nexpect that the method of this teaching would probably be such as in\nthe New Testament is shewn to us in regard to the doctrine of\nSacraments.\n\n(1) For, in the first place, we find abundant and pervading signs that\nthe general principle is taken up into Christianity and earned on as a\ncharacteristic note of its plan and work. The regular communication of\nits prerogative and characteristic gift through outward means: the\nembodiment of grace in ordinances: the designation of visible agents,\nacts, and substances, to be the instruments and vehicles of Divine\nvirtue:--this principle is so intimately and essentially woven into\nthe texture of Christianity that it cannot be got out without\ndestroying the whole fabric. As our Saviour gradually sets forth the\noutlines of His design for the redemption of the world, at point after\npoint the Sacramental principle is affirmed, and material instruments\nare designated for the achievement of His work. 'He proclaims Himself\nthe Founder of a world-wide and imperishable Society,' 'the Kingdom of\nHeaven' or 'the Kingdom of God[386];' and while the claims and\nenergies of this kingdom penetrate the hidden depths of life, so that\nit is indeed 'a moral empire,' and 'a realm of souls,' yet none the\nless is it openly to take its place in human history. It is not an\nunsubstantial haze of vague spirituality, precarious and indistinct,\nhovering or said to hover half way between earth and sky, with no\nprecise attachment to either. At once, it is the kingdom of Heaven,\nand it is to have all the apparel of a visible society: it touches\nthis earth with a definite and inclusive hold; it ennobles material\nconditions by a frank acceptance. As in the Incarnation, so also in\nthe preparation of the Church to be the ever-present witness to\nChrist, the guardian of His truth, and the home of His people, the\nprinciple was sustained that, in the redemption of the world, God\nwould be pleased to take the instruments of His work out of that world\nwhich He was renewing: that the quickening Spirit would not repel or\ndestroy the material order, but would assume, pervade, and use it.\n\n(2) And, in the second place, the particular expressions of the\ngeneral principle thus reaffirmed were authoritatively appointed: the\napproved anticipation of men was left in no uncertainty as to its\nresponse and sanction; men were told plainly what were the outward and\nvisible signs which God had chosen in this world to be the means\nwhereby His inward and spiritual grace should be received. It is\ndifficult indeed to imagine any way in which more weight and\nincisiveness could have been given to the appointment of the two great\nSacraments than in the way which Christ was pleased to use:--any way\nin which Baptism and the Eucharist could have been more firmly and\nimpressively designated as the vital and distinctive acts of the\nChristian Church. We can hardly wonder at their pre-eminence in\nChristian thought and life when we remember how they were fastened\nupon the consciousness of the Church. Their antecedents lay in that\nlong mysterious course of history which Almighty God had led on\nthrough the strange discipline of the changeful centuries to the\ncoming of Christ. And then, there had been in Christ's teaching\ncertain utterances which seemed to have a peculiar character: which\nwere plainly of essential importance, concerning things necessary for\nall His disciples, bearing on the primary conditions of their life:\nand yet utterances which were left unexplained, however men might be\ntroubled, offended, overstrained, discouraged by them: left as though\ntheir explanation was impossible, until the occurrence of events which\ncould not be forestalled[387]. But such utterances, if they could not\nbe understood, could still less be forgotten: they lived in the\nmemory, they haunted the imagination, they sustained expectancy: they\nwere as a prophetic conviction in the mind, strong, deep, fragmentary,\nand unsatisfied. Who can measure the consilient force with which, in\nmoments of intensest thought and feeling, moments when all the\nbesetting conditions seemed quick with some imminent disclosure, the\nDivine commands, meeting, illuminating, establishing those former\nutterances, would be riveted upon the hearts of men and clenched for\never into the faith and practice of the Church, with a dominance never\nto be forgotten or infringed, as a very primal law of life? In the\nunique, controlling awe of His impending agony and crucifixion:--in\nthe heralded majesty of His appearance to the disciples upon the\nmountain where He had appointed them, and with the proclamation of the\nabsolute authority given to Him in heaven and in earth: so did our\nLord enact the ordinances to which His earlier words had pointed, and\nin which at length their meaning was made clear: so did He institute\nHis two great Sacraments: so did He disentangle the Sacramental\nprinciple from all that had been temporary, accidental, disciplinary,\naccommodated, in its past embodiment, and determine what should be the\nform of its two main expressions, for all ages and for all men in His\nChurch 'until His coming again,' 'even unto the end of the world.'\n\nIt may be in place here briefly to suggest a few thoughts with regard\nto that which was secured by this authoritative designation of the\noutward sign in each great Sacrament, beyond all that could have been\nattained by the general enunciation of the Sacramental principle.\n\nMuch might be said--and much more, doubtless, be still left\nunsaid--about the especial fitness of the very elements thus chosen\nfrom the material world to be the vehicles of saving grace:--for the\nwater and the bread and wine are called to their place in the Divine\nwork with deep and far-reaching associations already belonging to\nthem. Again, the very simplicity and commonness of the elements taken\ninto God's nearest service may have been a part of the reason why they\nwere appointed: for in no other way could the minds of men have been\nmore surely and permanently hindered from many of the mistakes to\nwhich in the past they had been prone: in no other way could the\nSacramental principle have been more perfectly disengaged from the\nmisconceptions which had confused its purity: in no other way could\nmen have been more plainly taught that in no expense of this world's\ngoods, in no labour of their own hands, in no virtue of the material\nelements, but only in the sustained energy of His will, who took and\npenetrated and employed them, lay the efficacy of the Sacrament. The\nvery plainness of the element hallowed in the Sacrament was to urge up\nmen's thoughts from it to Him. But, above all, the decisive\nappointment of particular signs and acts may seem to have been\nnecessary in order that the Sacraments might take their places as acts\nemanating from, upheld by, and characteristic of the Church's\ncorporate life, and not merely concerned with the spiritual welfare of\nthe individual. So S.\u00a0Paul appeals to Baptism and to the Eucharist as\nboth effecting and involving the communion of saints[388]. By\nSacraments men are to be taken out of the narrowness and isolation of\ntheir own lives, out of all engrossing preoccupation with their own\nstate, into the ample air, the generous gladness, the unselfish hope\nof the City of God: they are to escape from all daily pettiness, all\nmorbid self-interest, all preposterous conviction of their own\nimportance, into a fellowship which spans all ages and all lands. By\nBaptism and the Eucharist the communion of saints is extended and\nsustained: they are the distinctive acts of the Body of Christ: and as\nsuch He designated their essential form, to abide unaltered through\nall that changed around them. And even those who stand aloof from them\nand from the faith on which they rest, may feel the unmatched\ngreatness of an act that has held its place in human life through all\nthe revolutions of more than 1800 years: an act that in its essential\ncharacteristics is to-day what it was when imperial Rome was venerated\nas eternal: an act that is every day renewed, with some measure, at\nleast, of the same faith and hope and love, in every land where Christ\nis owned.\n\n(3) The Sacramental principle had been most plainly adopted by our\nLord: the spiritual forces with which He would renew the face of the\nearth were to be exerted through material instruments: and He Himself\nhad secured the principle from uncertainty or vagueness or\nindividualism in its expression by appointing, with the utmost weight\nand penetration of His authority, the definite form of two great\nordinances, which were to begin and to advance the supernatural life\nof His members, to extend the range of His Church, and to maintain its\nunity. In the acts and letters of His apostles we see how His teaching\nand bidding had been understood: how promptly and decisively His\nChurch declared its life, its work, its mission, to be Sacramental.\nThe meaning and emphasis of His commandment appear in the obedience of\nthose to whom it was given: in the first words of authoritative\ncounsel uttered by an apostle: in the first act of the Spirit-bearing\nBody: and thenceforward in the characteristic habits of the Christian\nlife[389].\n\nFrom the first the prominence of Sacraments and Sacramental rites is\nconstant. In the teaching of later ages their prominence may have been\nrelatively greater, in contrast with the poverty of faith and life in\nthose who insisted on their power while they forgot their meaning; but\nabsolutely it would be hard to devise a higher place for them than\nthat which they hold in S.\u00a0Paul's Epistles. To be living a life\nreceived, nourished, and characterised by Baptism and by the\nEucharist--this is the distinctive note of a Christian--thus does he\ndiffer from other men. The Sacrament by which he became a member of\nChrist's body must determine throughout the two distinctive qualities\nof his inner life: its severance from all forms of worldliness, all\ndependence on natural advantages, or natural strength, all confidence\nin the satisfaction of external rules; and its unfailing newness, as\nissuing from Him who, being raised from the dead, dieth no more, and\nas carrying through all its activities the air and light of\nheaven[390]. And the Sacrament which continually renews in him the\npresence of his Lord, meeting with unstinted wealth the demands of\nwork and growth, assuring and advancing the dominance of the new\nmanhood in him: this in like manner must determine the sustained\nsimplicity of his bearing towards those who with him are members of\nthe one Body, quickened and informed by the one Life[391]. That men\nmay receive eternal life through Jesus Christ: this is the end of all\nlabours in His name: to this all else is tributary and conducive: and\nthere is no hesitation as to the visible means by which God will\neffect this end in all those who have 'faith to be healed.' And in\nthis sense it may perhaps be said that in Christianity even doctrine\nholds not indeed a subordinate but (that which involves nothing but\ndignity) a subservient place; since it is the strength and glory of\nChristian doctrine that it essentially 'leads on to something\nhigher--to the sacramental participation in the atoning sacrifice of\nChrist[392].'\n\n\nIV. Thus then there appears at the beginning the dominance of that\nnote which has sounded on through all succeeding ages; thus may we\ntrace from the first days the dispensation of Divine energy through\nagents and acts and efficacious symbols gathered out of this visible\nworld. It remains to be shewn with what reason it can be alleged that\nherein the Church evinces its recognition of the complexity of human\nnature, and guards the truth, that in the entirety of his being man\nhas to do with God, the Creator, Redeemer, Sanctifier of his soul and\nbody. Along three lines of thought this may in some degree appear; and\nif the evidence that can be indicated is recognised as in any measure\nreal, it would be unphilosophic to set it aside because it may be\nfragmentary and inconclusive: since fragments are all that in such a\nmatter we are likely as yet to see.\n\n(1) First, then, there is a profound far-reaching import in the bare\nfact that material and visible means are thus hallowed to effect the\nwork of God, to bear His unseen grace. For it must not be thought that\nin this Sacramental union of the visible and the invisible we have\nonly an interesting parallel to the twofold nature of man, a neat and\ncurious symmetry, a striking bit of symbolism or accommodation. Nor is\nthe deepest significance of the Sacramental principle brought out when\nit is said quite truly that 'it has pleased God to bind His invisible\noperations to outward and visible methods,' 'lest that which is thus\ninvisible should for that reason be disbelieved or counterfeited or in\nany of the various ways in which human incredulity or human enthusiasm\nmight do it wrong, abused to the injury of man[393].' We may see in\nthis aspect of the system that it has indeed secondary advantages of\nthe highest worth; but its surpassing glory is in its primary and\nessential character, as the regular employment of visible means for\nthe achievement of Divine mysteries. For thus our whole estimate of\nthis world is affected. Its simplest objects have their kindred, as it\nwere, in the court, in the very presence chamber of the Most High; and\nactions such as we see in it day after day have been advanced to a\nsupreme distinction.\n\nAnd so through Sacramental elements and acts Christianity maintains\nits strong inclusive hold upon the whole of life. The consecration of\nmaterial elements to be the vehicles of Divine grace keeps up on earth\nthat vindication and defence of the material against the insults of\nsham spiritualism which was achieved for ever by the Incarnation and\nAscension of Jesus Christ. We seem to see the material world rising\nfrom height to height; pierced, indeed, and, as it were, surprised at\nevery stage by strange hints of a destiny beyond all likelihood; yet\nonly gradually laying aside the inertness of its lower forms,\ngradually seeming to yield itself, not merely to the external\nfashioning of spirit, but also to its inner and transforming\noccupation: till in humanity it comes within sight of that which God\nhas been preparing for it, even the reception of His own image and\nlikeness. And yet this is but the beginning: and though sin delays the\nend, and holds back the crown of all, it is but for a time; in due\nseason there is made known that absolutely highest honour to which God\nhas been leading on the work of His hands, even that in its highest\ntype it should be taken into God; that the Eternal Word should be made\nman, and from a human mother receive our nature, so that a material\nbody should be His body; His in birth, and growth, and death; His in\nall its relations with the visible world; His for suffering, for\nweariness, for tears, for hunger; His upon the cross and in the tomb;\nHis to rise with; and, at length, His at the right hand of God. Thus\nwas the visible received up into glory; thus was the forecast of\nspiritual capacity in the material perfectly realized; and by the body\nof the ascended Saviour, an entrance for the whole being of man into\nthe realm of spirit is assured. 'There is a spiritual body[394]:' no\npart of the material order can be quite untouched by the light that\nissues from those astounding words, and from the triumph they record.\nAnd that truth, that triumph, that possibility of unhindered\ninter-penetration between the spiritual and the material is\npre-eminently attested upon earth by the two great Sacraments of the\nChristian Church. In those mysteries where water is sanctified to the\nwashing away of sin, and where material substances are made spiritual\nfood, there is a continual witness of the victory that has been won, a\nreal earnest of that which shall hereafter be achieved, a vivid\ndeclaration that the barrier between the spiritual and the material is\nnot absolute or eternal.\n\nNor is this deep truth without practical and far-reaching consequences\nin human life. For immediately it thus appears that the unreal\nspirituality which consists in a barren and boastful disparagement of\nritual observance or of outward acts[395], of earthly relationships or\nof secular life, of natural feelings or of bodily health, clashes with\nChristian teaching as sharply as it does with human nature and with\ncommon sense. And then, in perfect accordance with this principle, the\nspiritual energy of the Church is sacramentally conveyed for the\nhallowing of stage after stage in the due order of a human life, as\nbody, soul, and spirit are advanced towards the end for which they\nwere created. Not only in the initial act whereby all are bidden to\nenter into the kingdom of God, and, at the dawn of consciousness, the\nonset of evil is forestalled by the cleansing and regenerating work of\nGod the Holy Ghost--not only in the ever-needed, ever-ready mystery of\nglory whereby, amidst the stains and sorrows of the world, all may\nagain and again be 'filled with the very essence of restoration and of\nlife[396];' but at other moments too, when the soul of man rises up\ntowards God in the divinely-quickened venture of faith, the strength\nof the Most High is perfected in human weakness, and in Sacramental\nacts the things that are not seen enter into the history of the things\nthat are seen. It is most unfortunate that the associations of\ncontroversy should hinder men from frankly and thankfully recognising\nthe wide range of Sacramental action in Christian life. The dispute as\nto the number of the Sacraments is indeed 'a question of a name[397];'\nand it ought to have been acknowledged all along that the name was\nbeing used with different and shifting meanings. That men knew that it\ndid not designate an essentially distinct class of exactly equivalent\nunits is shewn on all sides; S.\u00a0Thomas Aquinas seems to doubt, at\nleast, whether there are not more than seven Sacraments, divides the\nseven into groups with very important notes of difference, and decides\nthat the Eucharist is 'Sacramentorum omnium potissimum[398]:' Calvin\nwas not unwilling that the laying on of hands should be called a\nSacrament, though he would not reckon it 'inter ordinaria\nSacramenta[399];' the Council of Trent has an anathema for anyone who\nsays that the seven Sacraments are so equal that none is more worthy\nthan another[400]: Richard Baxter distinguishes between 'three sorts\nof Sacraments;' in the second sense of the name, in which it is taken\nto mean 'any solemn _Investiture_ of a person by ministerial delivery,\nin a state of Church-privileges, or some special gospel-mercy,' he\ngrants 'that there are five Sacraments--Baptism, Confirmation,\nAbsolution, the Lord's Supper and Ordination;' and elsewhere he\ndeclares that 'they that peremptorily say without distinguishing that\nthere are but two Sacraments in all, do but harden them (the Papists)\nby the unwarrantable narrowing of the word[401].' There is indeed no\nreason why anyone should hesitate to mark the Love of God meeting in\nSacramental ordinances the need of man at point after point in the\ncourse of his probation. Differences in the manner of appointment or\nin the range of application may involve no difference at all in the\nreality of the power exercised and the grace conveyed. And so we may\nsee the Spirit-bearing Church, with whole-hearted recognition of all\nthe elements and wants of human life, proffering to men through\nvisible means the manifold gifts of grace needed for their progress\nand welfare in the way until they reach the Country. As temptation\ngrows more complex and severe, and the soul begins to realize the\nwarfare that it has to wage, the Personal indwelling of the Holy\nGhost, vouchsafed by the laying on of hands, completes the preparation\nof Christ's soldier: as the desolating sense of failure threatens to\nunnerve the will and to take such hold upon the soul that it is not\nable to look up, the authoritative message of forgiveness brings again\nthe strength of purity and the light of hope, and recalls the\nscattered forces of the inner life to expel the encroaching evil and\nto regain whatever had been lost. For special vocations there are\nspecial means of grace; by ordination God vouchsafes to guilty men the\nglory of the priesthood: and in Christian marriage He confers the\ngrace that hallows human love to be the brightness and the safeguard\nof an earthly home, and the earnest of the home in Heaven. And thus in\nthe manifold employment of the Sacramental principle there again\nappears that characteristic excellence of Christianity which is\nsecured in the very nature of Sacraments: namely, its recognition of\nthe whole problem with which it claims to deal. It speaks to us as we\nare: there is no true need of which it will not take account: it will\nlead us without loss to the realization of our entire being.\n\n(2) Secondly, Sacraments are a constant witness against our readiness\nto forget, to ignore, or to explain away the claim of Christianity to\npenetrate the bodily life, and to affect the body itself, replenishing\nit here with powers which are strange to it, lifting it out of the\nreach or mastery of passions which falsely boast that they are\ncongenial with it, leading it on towards its everlasting rest, beyond\nall weakness and dishonour, in the glory of God. This claim, with the\ndeeply mysterious but wholly reasonable hope which it engenders, has\nbeen set forth by Hooker, with his unfaltering strength of thought and\nwords: 'Doth any man doubt that even from the flesh of Christ our very\nbodies do receive that life which shall make them glorious at the\nlatter day, and for which they are already accounted parts of His\nblessed body? Our corruptible bodies could never live the life they\nshall live, were it not that here they are joined with His body, which\nis incorruptible, and that His is in ours as a cause of immortality, a\ncause by removing, through the death and merit of His own flesh, that\nwhich hindered the life of ours. Christ is therefore, both as God and\nas man, that true Vine whereof we both spiritually and corporally are\nbranches. The mixture of His bodily substance with ours is a thing\nwhich the ancient Fathers disclaim. Yet the mixture of His flesh with\nours they speak of, to signify what our very bodies through mystical\nconjunction receive from that vital efficacy which we know to be in\nHis: and from bodily mixtures they borrow divers similitudes rather to\ndeclare the truth, than the manner of coherence between His sacred and\nthe sanctified bodies of saints[402].' The body, as well as the\nspirit, is accessible to the Divine life: there are avenues by which\nthe energy of Christ's perfect and glorified manhood can penetrate,\ninform, affect, transfigure our whole being, bodily and spiritual. His\nprevalence in the life of the body and the change He works in it, may\nbe very gradual, discerned in incoherent fragments, interrupted by\nsurprising disappointments, hampered by limitations which it would be\nunlike Him now to overbear: but the change is real. The body is not\nleft inert and brutish and uncheered, while the spirit is being\ncarried on from strength to strength, with growing light and freedom\nand majesty: it also rises at its Saviour's touch, and finds from Him\nthe earnest of its liberation and advancement.\n\nThe work of grace upon the bodily nature of man may indeed be a matter\nof which we ought not to think save very humbly and tentatively: it is\neasy and perilous to overstate or to mis-read the evidence: but there\nis peril also in ignoring it. The language of our Blessed Lord; the\nclear conviction of His apostles; the intrepid quietude of His\nmartyrs; the patience of the saints; their splendid and unrivalled\nendurance in His service; the change that may be marked in the looks\nand voices and instinctive acts of some who seem to be most nearly\nHis:--here is such guidance for thought and hope as we ought not to\ndismiss because we cannot make up a theory about it. There are real\nfacts--though they may be fragmentary, and require very careful\nhandling--to warrant us in praying that our sinful bodies may be made\nclean by His body, as well as that our souls may be washed by His most\nprecious blood.\n\nIt is this truth, with the higher aspirations, the more venturous\nhopes and efforts which it suggests, that the Sacramental system of\nthe Church keeps in its due prominence. It is at all events not\nincongruous to think that the spiritual grace which is conveyed by\nvisible means may pass through our spiritual nature to tell upon that\nwhich is visible. He who comes spiritually under a visible form may\nwell be believed to work spiritually upon a visible nature. It is not,\nof course, to be thought for a moment that our bodies can at all after\ntheir own manner receive that Food which is wholly spiritual: nor that\nthe visible element in a Sacrament gives to our bodies any hold upon\nthe invisible grace, any power to appropriate to themselves by their\nown proper energies that which is incorporeal and supra-sensuous.\n'Only the soul or spirit of man can take in and feed upon a spiritual\nnutriment[403]:' it is only (so far as our thoughts can go) through\nthe avenue, by the medium of the faithful soul that the spiritual\nforce of the Sacrament can penetrate to the body. But the fact that\nthe spiritual virtue comes to us under a form of which our bodily\nsenses take cognizance is at least a pledge that the body is not\nforgotten in the work of sanctification. And it is something more than\nthis:--it is an assurance of that invasion and penetration of the\nmaterial by the spiritual which is the very ground of all our hope for\nthe redemption of the body. There is in the very nature of a Sacrament\nthe forecast of some such hope as this:--that He who said of the\nmaterial bread 'This is My Body,' may, in His own time, through\nchanges which we cannot imagine, take to Himself and lift into the\ntransfiguring realm of spirit our material bodies as well as our\nsouls; seizing, disclosing, perfecting capacities which under their\npresent conditions we hardly suspect in them. And, perhaps, yet more\nthan this may be said: for there would seem to be warrant for trusting\nthat, in spite of all hindrance and delay, His word of power even now\ngoes forth towards this work, and in the holy Eucharist has its\nefficacy throughout our whole nature. It is the thought to which\nHooker points in words of endless import: 'there ensueth a kind of\ntransubstantiation in us, a true change both of soul and body, an\nalteration from death to life;' words which rest on those of\nS.\u00a0Irenaeus: 'As bread from the earth receiving the invocation of God\nis no longer common bread but the Eucharist, consisting of two things,\nan earthly and a heavenly; so our bodies also receiving the Eucharist\nare no longer corruptible, having the hope of the Resurrection[404].'\nAlike in us and in the Sacrament the powers of the world to come\ninvade the present, and already move towards the victory which shall\nbe hereafter.\n\n(3) And thus, in the third place, the ministry of Sacraments is a\nperpetual prophecy of the glory that shall be revealed in us; the\nglory that shall pervade and transfigure our whole being. 'Till He\ncome;' 'until His coming again;' that note of expectancy, of looking\ntowards the east and watching for the return of a great light,\ndiscloses a deep truth about the Christian Sacraments. They sanction\nand confirm, as ever-present witnesses of a Divine assent, certain\nthoughts which will not let men rest in any low contentment with the\nthings of time--with the approval, the success, the gratification, or\nthe systems of this world. They declare with a perpetual insistence\nthe mysteriousness of our present being: they have a certain\nfellowship with those strange flashes and pulsations we have felt of a\nlife which seems astray and alien here, which yet somehow suggests the\nthought that could we commit ourselves wholly to its guidance, could\nwe be replenished with its power, we should not walk in darkness, but\nrather, even in this world, be as the children of light:--and so they\ntake the side of faith and patience against the attractions of\ncompleteness and security and achievement and repose. For they offer\nto guide into the way of peace, to welcome into an ordered, hallowed,\ncourse of loving service and of steady growth, those passing thrills\nof an intenser life, which if they be forgotten, denied,\nmisunderstood, or surrendered to the abuse of wilfulness and vanity,\nmay so subtly and terribly be unto us an occasion of falling.\n\nIt is given sometimes to a poet to sink a shaft, as it were, into the\nvery depths of the inner life: to penetrate its secret treasuries, and\nto return, Prometheus-like, with a gift of fire and of light to men.\nThe venturesome words that record such a moment of penetration and\ninsight never lose their power: they seem to have caught something of\nthe everlasting freshness of that world of which they speak: and one\nman after another may find in them, at some time of need or gladness\nor awakening, the utterance of thoughts which else he might have been\ntoo shy or too faint-hearted to acknowledge even to himself. There is\nsuch a splendid venture of courage for the truth's sake in those lines\nof Wordsworth which surely no familiarity can deprive of their claim\nto reverence and gratitude; the lines in which he tells his\nthankfulness,\n\n        For those obstinate questionings\n      Of sense and outward things,\n      Fallings from us, vanishings;\n      Blank misgivings of a creature\n  Moving about in worlds not realized,\n  High instincts before which our mortal nature\n  Did tremble like a guilty thing surprized:\n      .... Those first affections,\n        Those shadowy recollections,\n      Which, be they what they may,\n  Are yet the fountain-light of all our day,\n  Are yet a master-light of all our seeing;\n      Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make\n  Our noisy years seem moments in the being\n  Of the eternal Silence.\n\nIt may be doubted, whether any life is left wholly unvisited by some\nmisgiving, some dim, faltering instinct, some pulse of hope or sorrow,\nwhich is akin to that which these words disclose; and the moments of\nsuch visitation are the supreme opportunities of a human soul, the\ncrises of its tragedy. Then the things that belong to its peace are\nbeing proffered to it; then the Sibyl stands before it with the\ntreasures of unimagined wisdom. We rise, and we live and grow and see\nby the right understanding and employment of such moments; by the\nfresh acts of self-committal which they render possible: and in all\nthe infinite pathos of this world there is no misery comparable with\nthis--that they should cease to trouble us. Whatever a man may believe\nor disbelieve, he will do well to trust these moments when they come:\nand, perhaps, if he has grace to know and use them, he may be nearer\nto the kingdom of God than he at all suspects. But Christianity does\nnot leave such 'shoots of everlastingness' wholly unexplained or\nunprovided for.\n\nThey are in truth the fountain light of all our seeing, for they are\nthe disclosure, the assertion, the stepping forward of His presence\nwho alone sustains our life, our thought, our love. And, being this,\nthey are therefore also the tokens, the emerging witness of a work\nthat has begun in us, a life that is astir, a process of change that\nmay be carried forward to an issue which, even faintly surmised, might\nmake all other desire die away in us.\n\nThat we should be perfectly set free from sin; that God should so\ndwell in us and pervade our whole being that no part should lag behind\nthe other; that whatsoever weakness or reluctance or coarseness may\nhave clung about the body here should utterly pass away, being driven\nback by the victorious onset of the Spirit of God, claiming us wholly,\nbody, soul, and spirit for His own; that whatsoever pure and true\ndelight has here engaged us should be found, faultless and unwearied,\nin that energy which shall be at once our work and our rest for\never;--this is how Christianity represents to us the end of our\ndevelopment: and if indeed the powers which are to achieve so vast a\nchange are already setting about their work in us, it is not strange\nthat we should be disturbed now and then with some suspicion of it. We\nmay understand alike the severity of external discipline, and the\nsharp disturbance and upheaval of anything like complacency, in a\nnature that is being here led on towards so splendid and inconceivable\na transfiguration.\n\nBut Christianity does not merely declare to us the origin and meaning\nof these strange invasions of our ordinary life; these emergings, as\nit were, of that which is behind our normal activity, when the light,\nthe strength, the love in which alone we live seems to push aside the\ncurtain on which the background of our daily life is painted, and to\nappear unveiled among the things of time. He who telleth the number of\nthe stars and calleth them all by their names, He who sendeth the\nsprings into the valleys, and sweetly and mightily ordereth all\nthings; He would not have these moments of intenser life, of keener\nconsciousness, of quicker and more excellent growth, to be precarious\nand unaccountable, to be abrupt and arbitrary as the rush of the\nmeteor which is gone before the eye has clearly seen it, or could use\nits light. They come from Him; they are the moments in which He makes\nHis power to be known; in which His hand is felt, and His voice\npervades the soul; the moments when His presence advances, as it were,\nand bends over us, and we know that it is He, Himself. And must we\nmerely wait in blank and idle helplessness for that which we so\ngreatly need; for that which is our only source of strength and\ngrowth? Must we wait, flagging and fruitless, with just a vague hope\nthat the quickening presence may chance to visit us again, lighting on\nus with arbitrary beneficence, as the insect lights upon the plant,\nthat it may bring forth fruit in due season? Must we wonder through\ndays and months, yes, and through years perhaps of dim and desolate\nbewilderment, whether it was a real presence that came to us; with\nnothing but the fading memory of an individual and unconfirmed\nimpression to sustain our hope, to keep the door against the gathering\nforces of doubt and worldliness and despair? Must we find our way as\nbest we can, by guidance given long ago, imperfectly realized even\nthen, and more and more hazily remembered, more drearily inadequate as\ntime goes on, and the path grows rougher and less clear? Is the\ngreatest effort to be demanded of us just when our strength is least\nand our light lowest[405]? Surely it is not His way to be thus\narbitrary in compassion, thus desultory and precarious in shewing\nmercy. Surely He would not have us stray and faint and suffer thus.\nNo, His compassions fail not; and, with the orderliness of a father's\nlove, He has made us sure of all we need; and the historic Church and\nthe triumphs of His saints declare that He is true. He has, with the\ncertainty of His own unchanging word, promised that the unseen gift,\nwhich is the power of saintliness in sinful man, shall be given to all\nfaithful, humble souls by ordered means through appointed acts. We\nneed not vaguely hope that we may somehow receive His grace; for He\nhas told us where and how we are to find it, and what are the\nconditions of its unhindered entrance into our souls. We need not be\nalways going back to wonder whether our sins have been forgiven, or\nlaboriously stirring up the glow of a past conviction; for there is a\nministry which He has empowered to convey to us that cleansing glory\nwhich is ever ready to transfigure penitence into peace and\nthanksgiving. We need not live an utterly unequal life, stumbling to\nand fro between our ideal and our caricature[406]; for He has prepared\nfor us a way which leads from strength to strength; and we know where\nHe is ready to meet us and to replenish us with life and light. There\nis a glory that shall be revealed in us; and here on earth we may so\ndraw near and take it to ourselves that its quiet incoming tide may\nmore and more pervade our being; with radiance ever steadier and more\ntransforming; till, in this world and beyond it, He has made a perfect\nwork: till we are wholly ruled and gladdened by His presence, and\nwholly wrought into His image. For not by vague waves of feeling or by\nmoments of experience which admit no certain measure, no unvarying\ntest, no objective verification, but by an actual change, a cleansing\nand renewal of our manhood, a transformation which we can mark in\nhuman lives and human faces, or trace in that strange trait of\nsaintliness which Christianity has wrought into the rough fabric of\nhuman history, may the reality of Sacramental grace be known on earth;\nknown clearly enough, at all events, to make us hopeful about its\nperfect work in those who shall hereafter be presented faultless in\nbody, soul and spirit before the throne of God.\n\n[377] In _Rabbi Ben Ezra_ the true measure of such work's beneficence\nis shewn:--\n\n            Not on the vulgar mass\n            Called 'work,' must sentence pass,\n  Things done, that took the eye and had the price;\n            O'er which, from level stand,\n            The low world laid its hand,\n  Found straightway to its mind, could value in a trice:\n\n            But all the world's coarse thumb\n            And finger failed to plumb,\n  So passed in making up the main account;\n            All instincts immature,\n            All purposes unsure,\n  That weighed not as his work, yet swelled the man's amount.\n\n[378] Cf. A. Knox, _Remains_, ii.\u00a0138.\n\n[379] Cf. Plato, _Phaedo_, 85 C, D.\n\n[380] H. P. Liddon, _Some Elements of Religion_, pp. 116, 117. Cf. the\nwonderful venture towards a conception of the disembodied soul and of\nits manner of life, in the _Dream of Gerontius_: and also in _Battle\nand After_, by R. St. John Tyrwhitt, p. 7.\n\n[381] Lotze, _Microcosmus_, Bk. III. c. i. \u00a7 2.\n\n[382] Cf. T. H. Green, _Prolegomena to Ethics_, Bk. II. ch. ii. \u00a7\u00a7\n125, 126.\n\n[383] A. Knox, _Remains_, vol. ii. pp. 228, 229. The writer of this\nessay desires to acknowledge with gratitude the help he has found in\nthe remarkable treatise here referred to.\n\n[384] Cf. Hooker, V. liv.\u00a06.\n\n[385] Cf. A. Knox, ii.\u00a0210.\n\n[386] H. P. Liddon, _Bampton Lectures_, pp. 101-105.\n\n[387] Cf. S.\u00a0John iii. 3-13; vi.\u00a051-67.\n\n[388] 1\u00a0Cor. x.\u00a017; Gal. iii.\u00a027, 28; Eph. iv.\u00a05.\n\n[389] Acts ii.\u00a038, 41, 42.\n\n[390] Cf. Rom. vi.\u00a03, 4; Gal. iii.\u00a027, 28; Col. ii.\u00a012, 20-23.\n\n[391] Cf. 1\u00a0Cor. x.\u00a017, xii.\u00a025, 26.\n\n[392] W. Shirley, _The Church in the Apostolic Age_, p. 103.\n\n[393] Moberly's _Bampton Lectures_, pp. 29, 30.\n\n[394] 1\u00a0Cor. xv.\u00a044.\n\n[395] Cf. Professor Milligan, _The Resurrection of Our Lord_, Lect.\nvi. Pt. i. \u00a7 c.\n\n[396] Bright's _Ancient Collects_, p. 152.\n\n[397] C. Gore, _Roman Catholic Claims_, p. 170.\n\n[398] S.\u00a0Th. iii. Qu. LXV. Art. 1, 4, 3.\n\n[399] Calv. _Inst._ IV. xiv.\u00a020.\n\n[400] Conc. Trident. Sess. VII. Can. iii.\n\n[401] Richard Baxter, _Confirmation and Restauration_ pp. 88, 89;\n_Ecclesiastical Cases of Conscience_, Qu. 99. Cf. J. S.\u00a0Pollock,\n_Richard Baxter on the Sacraments_, \u00a7 58.\n\n[402] Hooker V. lvi.\u00a09: cf. E. B. Pusey, _University Sermons_, p. 11,\n'This is (if we may reverently so speak) the order of the mystery of\nthe Incarnation, that the Eternal Word so took our flesh into Himself,\nas to impart to it His own inherent life; so then we partaking of it,\nthat life is transmitted on to us also, and not to our souls only, but\nour bodies also, since we become flesh of His flesh, and bone of His\nbone, and He who is wholly life, is imparted to us wholly. The Life\nwhich He is, spreads around, first giving its own vitality to that\nsinless flesh which He united indissolubly with Himself, and in it\nencircling and vivifying our whole nature, and then, through that\nbread which is His flesh, finding an entrance to us individually,\npenetrating us, soul and body and spirit, and irradiating and\ntransforming us into His own light and life.'\n\n[403] J. B. Mozley, _Lectures and other Theological Papers_, p. 204.\n\n[404] Hooker V. lxvii.\u00a011; S.\u00a0Irenaeus iv.\u00a018.\n\n[405] Cf. A. Knox, ii.\u00a0234-6.\n\n[406] Cf. Martensen, _Christian Dogmatics_, p. 182.\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\n_CHRISTIANITY AND POLITICS._\n\nW. J. H. CAMPION.\n\n\nThe aim of this essay is to investigate some of the relations of\nChristianity to human society, and to point out some of the main lines\nof influence which the Christian Church brings to bear on the\norganized centres of social life.\n\nWe are met at the outset by two widely-differing conceptions of the\nmode and direction in which Christianity acts as a regenerating\ninfluence on the life of mankind. On the one side, Christianity is\nidentified with civilization, and the function of the Church is\nregarded as simply the gathering up, from age to age, of the higher\naspirations of mankind: her call is to enter into, to sympathize with,\nand to perpetuate whatever is pure, noble, and of good report, in laws\nand institutions, in art, music, and poetry, in industry and commerce,\nas well as in the moral and religious usages and beliefs, of mankind.\nChristianity is thus not a higher order, standing over against and\ncorrecting a lower, but is itself the product or rather the natural\noutgrowth of the progressive moral consciousness of mankind. The value\nof this mode of thought is in emphasizing the sacredness of secular\ninterests and duties, and in its protest against dividing the field of\nconscience, and assigning to the one part a greater sanctity than to\nthe other. 'As our salvation depends as certainly upon our behaviour\nin things relating to civil life, as in things relating to the service\nof God, it follows that they are both equally matters of conscience\nand salvation[407].' Its weakness lies in its not sufficiently\nrecognising one decisive fact of human nature, the fact of sin. No\none, as it seems to us, looking at human nature, in himself or others,\nwith clear, open, unprejudiced eyes, can doubt the existence of sin,\nits corrupting influence on the whole nature, and yet its fundamental\nunnaturalness. But if states and societies are as the individuals who\ncompose them, then any theory of society must rest on a theory of man;\nand the theory of man is imperfect unless it recognises the fact of\nsin.\n\nOn the other hand, the recoil from secularism, or the overwhelming\nsense of the power and destructiveness of sin in the lives of men and\nof societies, leads others to draw sharp the distinction between\nthings sacred and things secular. The order of things, it is said, of\nwhich the Incarnation is the starting-point, is admittedly higher than\nthat secular order which existed before it, and which even now\nsurrounds it as darkness encompasses light. Let us put on one side\npolitical life, local and national interests, all that sphere of mixed\nsocial relations, which is so imperfect, so full of fierce passions,\nof strife, envy, and ambition, so productive of distractions and\nentanglements. Let us concentrate our own thoughts on sin, and devote\nour own lives to its remedy. Let us at least keep our own hands clean,\nand use for our own discipline that narrower sphere which is\nsufficient. No doubt individuals will find their vocation in some such\nattitude as this: and for some it may be wise to abstain from\npolitical and social interests, in order thus to strengthen their\ninfluence in other directions. But we are not now considering the call\nof individual Christians, but the attitude of the Christian Church as\na whole: and it would be easy to accumulate references to shew that\nthe leading minds of Christendom have declined to recognise, except in\ncases of special vocation, as the duty of Christians, the abdication\nof responsibility for the problems, the entanglements, the more or\nless secular issues of the ordinary social life of mankind.\nChristianity, in the words of a modern writer, has both to deliver\nhumanity from its limitations, and to bring it to a true knowledge of\nitself[408].\n\nThese two conceptions of the relation of the Christian society to the\nissues and interests of the life amid which it moves, correspond to\ntwo aspects of the Incarnation, which the deepest Christian thought\nholds in solution. On the one side, the human life of the Word of God\nmay be regarded as a fulfilment, the restoration of an order, marred,\nindeed, and broken, but never completely lost, the binding together of\nall truth, all goodness, all beauty, into one perfect life; on the\nother, it is a reversal, the beginning of a new order, the undoing of\na great wrong which has eaten deep into human nature, the lifting up\nof mankind out of the helpless slavery of sin into the freedom of\nrighteousness. These two aspects of the Incarnation are not\ncontradictory but complementary. However difficult it may be for us to\nfind their unity in thought, they had their unity in a life.\n\nIn the same way, the problem with which Christianity has to deal in\nits relations to human society has two sides. It cannot hold itself\naloof from the great currents and movements of that ever-flowing and\nebbing human life, in which it shares, which it has to redeem, to\npurify, and to quicken. 'In the great sea of human society, part of\nit, yet distinguishable from it, is the stream of the existence of the\nChurch[409].' And yet it has to maintain, as a debt it owes to future\ngenerations as well as the present, the purity of its own moral\nstandard, the independence of its own deepest life.\n\nTo spiritualize life without ceasing to be spiritual, to maintain a\nhigh morality while at the same time inter-penetrating a non-Christian\nor very imperfectly Christianized society with its own moral habits\nand manners, is a task which presupposes great cohesion and tenacity\non the part of the Christian Church. And it is for that reason that in\nspeaking of the Church we shall have mainly in view that solid, highly\narticulated, permanent core of Christendom[410], which, however broken\ninto fragments, and weakened by its own divisions, maintains a\nclearly-marked type, on the side of doctrine in its creeds and sacred\nwritings, on the side of worship in its sacraments and traditional\nliturgies, on the side of organization in its ministry, as well as\nholding the life of Christ its standard of perfect living. Those\nChristian bodies which float, more or less closely knit together,\naround the central core of the Church, have often rendered great\nservices in advancing on special points the standard of social and\npersonal morality, and they are more flexible, and able rapidly to\nthrow themselves into new crusades; but it may well be doubted if\ntheir work could have been done at all without the more rigid and\nstable body behind them, with its slow movements, but greater\nCatholicity of aim and sympathy; and certainly it would in the long\nrun have been better done, if, like the great monastic bodies, they\nhad remained as distinct organizations within the Church.\n\nWhat, then, is the attitude of the Church towards human society, and\nespecially towards human society as gathered up and concentrated in\nStates? What duties does it recognise towards nations, towards human\nsociety as a whole?\n\n\nI. There is a certain order of debated questions, on which it cannot\nbe said that the Christian Church is pledged to one side or the\nother--she leaves them open. Individual Christians take one side or\nthe other. The Christian society recognises that the differences are\ndue to diversities of temperament and national character, and to the\nvarying conditions under which human societies live, and therefore\nthat they may be best left to human experience to solve.\n\nIn this class of questions would come the problem debated since the\ntime of Herodotus, but to which no general answer is really possible,\nWhat is the best form of government? On this problem the Church is, so\nto speak, frankly opportunist. Here we may quote the view of\nS.\u00a0Augustine, as stated in the _De Civitate Dei_[411]: 'The Heavenly\nCity, in its wanderings on earth, summons its citizens from among all\nnations ... being itself indifferent to whatever differences there may\nbe in the customs, laws, and institutions by which earthly peace is\nsought after or preserved, not rescinding or destroying any of them,\nbut rather keeping and following after them as different means adopted\nby different races for obtaining the one common end of earthly peace,\nprovided only they are no obstacle to the religion by which men are\ntaught the worship of the one supreme and true God.' In the same\nspirit, in his dialogue _De libero Arbitrio_[412], he dwells on the\nmutable character of human law. That law is temporal, which, 'though\njust, may yet be justly changed from time to time,' i.e. as the\nconditions change. Thus, a Democracy is best adapted to a grave and\ntemperate people, public-spirited and willing to make sacrifices for\nthe common good; while it is better for a more corrupt, more easily\nflattered people, greedy of private gain, to be under an Aristocracy\nor a Monarchy. Or if we wish for a more modern statement of the\ntraditional view of the Christian Church, we shall find it in an\nencyclical letter[413] of Leo XIII: 'The right of sovereignty in\nitself is not necessarily united with any particular form of\ngovernment: it can rightly assume, now one form, now another, provided\nonly that each of these forms does in very deed secure useful results\nand the common good.' It will be noticed that two qualifications are\nintroduced, the one by S.\u00a0Augustine, the other by Pope Leo, limiting\ntheir acceptance of all forms of government. It is possible for\nChristian citizens to take an active part in every _de facto_\ngovernment which (1) does not hinder the free and peaceable practice\nof the Christian religion, and (2) whose real aim is the common good,\nand which does, in fact, work for the advantage of its subjects. Not\nall governments, even in the nineteenth century, satisfy these tests.\n\nIn the same way, there have been the widest differences between\nChristian thinkers on the most important questions, in which\nautocratic and democratic leanings shew themselves, such, for\ninstance, as that of the origin of sovereignty, i.e. of that rule of\nman over man, which is the foundation of civil society. The view\nindicated, though not worked out by S.\u00a0Augustine[414], that the rule\nof man over man had its origin in the Fall, and was therefore part of\nthe secondary, not the primary condition of mankind, is used by\nGregory VII as a weapon of assault on the temporal power, by Bossuet\nas a safe ground on which to rest the duty of obedience to an absolute\nMonarchy. The other side is taken by S.\u00a0Thomas Aquinas. He finds the\norigin of temporal rule in the social nature of man, accepting and\nmaking his own the Aristotelian account of man as by nature a being\nfitted for a common life. Thus, in a state of innocence, there would\nhave been no slavery indeed, but government, with its recognition of\nthe differences in ability and knowledge among men, and of the\nconsequent duty incumbent on the wise and experienced of using their\nfaculties for the common good. Political rule would thus be, not a\nconsequence of sin, but a result of man's inherently social nature.\n\nDifferences such as these among those who equally start from\nfundamentally Christian presuppositions can only be taken to shew that\nwe are wrong in supposing that the Christian Church is bound up with\neither of the two great political leanings which have appeared in\ncivil communities in all ages of the world, and which have their\nground in human nature itself. 'In every country of civilized man,\nacknowledging the rights of property, and by means of determined\nboundaries and common laws, united into one people or nation, the two\nantagonist powers or opposite interests of the State ... are those of\npermanence and of progression[415].' The Church recognises these\ndiverse powers or interests as natural, and therefore accepts the fact\nof their existence, without identifying herself with either of them.\n\n\nII. But it would surely be a mistake to suppose that because the\nChurch is neutral on certain questions of Politics, that therefore she\nhas no direct teaching to give on the vital questions which arise with\nregard to the organized common life of mankind. In the rebound from\nthe minimizing views of the function of the State, which were\nassociated in England with the Ricardian School of Economics and the\nphilosophic Radicalism of J. S.\u00a0Mill, men are ready to go all lengths\nin exalting the position of the State as the moral guide of social\nlife. The tendency is to assign the whole sphere of public morals to\nthe State, and 'private' morals to the individual, acting, if he\npleases, under the guidance of one or other of the Christian bodies.\nHowever much we may welcome the freer recognition of corporate\nresponsibility, and the nobler conception of the State as having a\nmoral end; yet we cannot help perceiving that certain limitations are,\nas by a self-acting law, imposed on its moral influence.\n\n(1) The State has been called the 'armed conscience of the\ncommunity[416].' Looked at on the moral side, as a guide of the\nconscience of individuals, its arms are its defect. But that defect is\nnot remediable: it is inevitable. For the State has to deal with\nvarious grades of character, responding to a vast complexity of\nmotives, which may be roughly classified under three heads, those of\nduty, self-interest, fear of punishment. To some 'you ought' is a\nsufficient appeal, to others 'you had better,' while to a third class\nthe only effective appeal is 'you must.' Now the State in order to\nperform its most elementary business, that of securing the conditions\nof an ordered and civilized life, has to deal first of all with those\nwho are only susceptible of the lowest motive, the dread of\npunishment. And in dealing with them, it must of necessity use\ncoercive force[417]. But the force-associations which thus grow up\naround all State-action weaken and enervate its appeal to the higher\nmotives, those of duty and rational self-interest. The very suspicion\nof compulsion taints the act done from duty.\n\nAgain, there can be little doubt of the vast influence exercised on\nmorals by human law and institutions. It is well known to those who\nare at all acquainted with the life of the poor in large towns, that\nin many cases conscience is mainly informed by positive law. But all\nthat human law can do is to secure a minimum of morality[418]. No\ndoubt it is true that indirectly positive law can do something more\nthan this, because good citizens will abstain from all actions which,\nin however remote a degree, are likely to bring them into collision\nwith the law. But in the main it is true to say that what law can\nsecure is the observance on pain of punishment of a minimum moral\nstandard, which itself shifts with the public opinion of society,\nrising as it rises, falling as it falls.\n\nCertainly the State is sacred: it is 'of God': it is no necessary\nevil: but a noble organ of good living. But yet there are these\nnatural limitations to the effective exercise of its functions, as a\nmoral guide. Firstly, it has to use force, and, therefore, its appeal\nto the higher motive is weakened. Secondly, it can only secure a\nminimum of morality, shifting with the general morality of the\ncommunity.\n\nNow it is exactly at these points that the Church steps in to\nsupplement the moral action of the State, not as one part supplements\nanother part of a single whole, but rather as a higher supplements a\nlower order.\n\nIt is in its appeal to the higher motives that the State is weak: it\nis in its appeal to the higher motives that the Church is strong. If\nthere have been times when the Church has allowed herself to claim or\nto assume temporal power, or without assuming it, to be so closely\nimplicated with the secular authority that Church and State appeared\nto men as one body interested in and maintaining the existing order,\nif she has used the weapons of persecution, or handed men over to the\nsecular arm, then has she so far weakened and loosened her own hold on\nthe higher motives which move men to action. She may have become\napparently more powerful, but it has always been at the cost, perhaps\nunperceived at the time, of some sacrifice of her own spirituality,\nand of the loftiness of that moral appeal in which her true strength\nlies. 'There is something in the very spirit of the Christian Church\nwhich revolts from the application of coercive force[419].'\n\nAnd so, alongside of the moral minima of the secular law, the\nChristian Church maintains moral maxima, moral ideals, or rather a\nmoral ideal, 'Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in\nheaven is perfect[420].' 'Till we all come unto a perfect man, unto\nthe measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ[421].' It is not\nthat the law is undervalued, or condemned, but that Christians are\nurged to bring their conduct under principles which will carry them\nfar beyond the mere obedience to law. It is sufficient to quote from\nthe Sermon on the Mount, 'Blessed are the meek.... Blessed are ye,\nwhen men shall revile you, and persecute you, and say all manner of\nevil against you falsely, for my sake.... I say unto you, that ye\nresist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek,\nturn to him the other also. And if any man will sue thee at the law,\nand take away thy coat, let him have thy cloke also[422].'\n\nThe law and institutions of a people rest upon and give expression to\na group of moral principles and ideals: they are not the only\nrealization of those principles and ideals, but one; art and\nliterature would be others; further, they realize them mainly on the\nnegative side, in the mode of prohibition. As that group of principles\nand ideals changes, they change, sometimes for the better, sometimes\nfor the worse. At first sight it seems as if there was no essential\ndifference in this respect between the laws and institutions of a\nnation, and the manners and institutions of the Christian Church,\nexcept that the one gives a more positive and constructive expression\nto the moral standard of the time than the other. But there is this\ndifference, that the Christian Church has its moral standard in the\npast, in the life of the Son of Man; it too recognises change, as age\nsucceeds age, but the new duties are regarded not as new, but as newly\nbrought forth out of an already existing treasure, as the completer\nmanifestation under new conditions of the meaning of the life of\nChrist. On the threshold of Christian morality there lies that by\nwhich all its subsequent stages may be tested, and which is the\nmeasure of advance or retrogression. It is this permanent element,\npreceding the element of change and of development, in Christian\nmorality, which gives it its authority as against the moral product of\none nation or one age.\n\nIt is exactly this authority which has enabled the Church to appeal\nwith such force to duty as precedent to right, and to love as higher\nthan justice. We can best illustrate this steady appeal to higher\nmotives by tracing the steps by which Christian teachers have brought\nout, one by one, the different aspects of the relations of governors\nand governed looked at in the light of Christian anthropology and\nChristian sociology. The first principles governing the attitude of\nindividual Christians towards the various organizations of human\nsociety are laid down in the words of Christ, 'Render unto Caesar the\nthings which are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are\nGod's[423].' The command, taken in connection with its context,\ninvolves two principles, first, the recognition of the claims of civil\nsociety, and, secondly, their limitation by a higher order of claims,\nwhere they come into conflict with the first. The passage in the\nEpistle to the Romans[424], in which S.\u00a0Paul deals with the duties of\nChristians towards 'the powers that be,' is a commentary on his\nMaster's teaching. It shews the connection of the first of these\nprinciples with the second, by tracing it back to its ground in the\nwill of God. It brings it into relation to love, the central motive of\nthe Christian character. Briefly summarized, the stages of S.\u00a0Paul's\nargument are as follows: (1) he shews that all power is of Divine\norigin: 'there is no power but of God.' Thus those who wield secular\npower are ministers of God. (2) The administration of earthly rewards\nand punishments by the secular power makes for good, and for this\nreason God uses it in His governance of the world. Therefore temporal\nauthority is to be obeyed 'not only for wrath, but also for conscience\nsake,' i.e. not merely to avoid earthly punishment, but as a duty. (3)\nThis duty may be regarded as one application of the general maxim of\njustice, 'Render to all their dues.' But (4) all these scattered dues\nare to a Christian summed up under one vast debt, always in process of\npayment, but never completely paid. 'Owe no man anything, but to love\none another.' 'Love is the fulfilling of the law.' These passages of\nthe New Testament put in the clearest light the duty of obedience to\ncivil authority. They lay down its theological ground in the\nderivation of all power from God; and its moral ground by shewing that\nsuch obedience is one form of justice, and justice itself one aspect\nof love. They thus give to the commands of those wielding authority in\nhuman society the firmest sanctions. If on the one side Christianity\nseems to set up conscience, as the guardian of the things of God,\nagainst positive law, it gives on the other a Divine sanction and\nconsecration to the whole order of things connected with the State by\nshewing its ministerial relation to, its defined place and function\nin, God's ordering of the world.\n\nThis was the side of our Lord's saying which needed enforcing on the\nChristians of S.\u00a0Paul's time. The civil authority was the Roman Empire\nwith its overwhelming force and its almost entire externality to\nChristianity. The danger, then, was the spirit of passionate revolt\nagainst the secular power. Men who were filled with the new wine of\nthe Spirit, who were turning the world upside down, found it hard to\nsubmit to the decrees of an alien power, wielded by heathen: they\npleaded their Christian liberty; they could not understand that such a\npower was 'ordained of God.' The early Christian Fathers found it\nsufficient, even when the Roman Empire was gradually becoming\nChristian, to bring home to consciences the teaching of S.\u00a0Paul. There\nwas no need then to emphasize in words the other side of our Lord's\nsaying. There was little danger of undue subservience to the civil\npower being regarded with anything but disapproval: the danger was of\nmen not giving it the obedience which was its due. 'We honour the\nEmperor,' says Tertullian[425], 'so far as we may, and so far as\nhonour is due to him, as the first after God ... as one who has only\nGod for his superior.' 'If the Emperor demands tribute,' says\nAmbrose[426], 'we do not refuse it: the lands of the Church pay\ntribute; if the Emperor wishes for our lands, he has the power to take\nthem--none of us will resist him ... we render to Caesar what is\nCaesar's.' S.\u00a0Augustine, with his Stoical leaning and his Roman sense\nof order, was little inclined to encourage men to resist, in any case,\nestablished powers. 'What matters it under whose rule a man lives who\nis to die, provided only his rulers do not force him to do impious and\nunjust things[427]?' Only in one passage of S.\u00a0Chrysostom[428], among\nthe writers of the first four centuries, is a gloss given to S.\u00a0Paul's\nwords, 'There is no power but of God,' which distinguishes the\ndelegation of power in general from God, and the delegation of power\nby God to any particular ruler, and so suggests the possibility of a\n_de facto_ ruler to whom obedience was not due.\n\nBut this attitude of the early Christian teachers was a very different\nthing from that attitude of the English Caroline divines, which gave\nso fatal a bent to the teaching of the English Church of the\nseventeenth century in the sphere which lies on the borderland of\nTheology and Politics. What the early Fathers taught their Christian\nfollowers was that it was their duty to obey in secular matters the\npowers lawfully set over them. What the English divines taught was the\nDivine right of princes and the subjects' duty of non-resistance. In\nthe great battle which was being fought out in England between\narbitrary power and freedom, they threw the whole weight of the\nEnglish Church on the side of the former. It was a fatal error as a\nmatter of policy, for it was the losing side. But, what is hardly\nsufficiently realized, it was most untrue to the tradition of the\nChurch, and of the Church in England.\n\nIt was contrary to the tradition of the Church. For after the rise of\nChristianity to the high places of the world, followed by the break-up\nof the Roman Empire, and the formation of the mediaeval States, weakly\nknit together by personal ties, and with uncertain claims on the\nallegiance of their subjects, two new aspects of the relations of\ngovernors and governed had been brought out in Christian teaching.\nFirst, stress was laid on the duty of those holding power. Emperors\nand kings, magistrates and officers, who were Christians, had a claim\nfor guidance and instruction in the exercise of their various\nfunctions. The claim was met by shewing them that, whatever the\nearthly source of authority may be, all just power is of God, and\ntherefore must be regarded, not as a privilege, nor as a personal\nright, but as a _trust_ to be undertaken for the good of others, and\nas a ministry for God and man. Thus a government which has for its aim\nanything else than the common good is, properly speaking, not a\ngovernment at all. Whether its form is monarchical or not, it is\nsimply a tyranny[429]. Secondly, the Middle Age theologians\nsupplemented S.\u00a0Paul's teaching by shewing the possible right of\nresistance to an unlawful government, or to one that failed to perform\nits duties. Such right of resistance might arise in two cases: (1)\nthat of unjust acquisition of power, (2) that of its unjust use.\nUnjust acquisition might take place in two ways: (_a_) when an\nunworthy person acquired power, but by legitimate means: in this case\nit was the duty of subjects to submit, because the form of power came\nfrom God; (_b_) when power was acquired by force or fraud: in this\ncase, subjects had the right to depose the ruler, if they had the\npower, supposing, however, that the illegitimate assumption of power\nhad not been legitimated by subsequent consent. Unjust use might also\ntake place in two ways: (_a_) when the ruler commanded something\ncontrary to virtue, in which case it was a duty to disobey; or (_b_)\nwhen he went outside his rights, in which case subjects were not bound\nto obey, but it was not necessarily their duty to disobey. And so\ncases might arise in which it was lawful to enfranchise oneself, even\nfrom a legitimate power. 'Some who have received power from God, yet\nif they abuse it, deserve to have it taken from them. Both the one and\nthe other come of God[430].'\n\nNor was the political teaching of the Caroline divines in agreement\nwith the tradition of the Church in England. It is not necessary to go\nback to the great Archbishops who led, in earlier days, the struggle\nfor English freedom. It is sufficient to recur to the teaching of the\ngreatest of English post-Reformation theologians, at once soaked\nthrough and through with the spirit of Catholic antiquity, and in\ncomplete agreement with the English Reformation settlement. Richard\nHooker had no sympathy with that doctrine of Divine right which his\nmediaeval masters looked upon as a quasi-heretical doctrine[431]. He\nfound the first origin of government in the consent of the governed,\nand he anticipates Hobbes and Locke in his account of the 'first\noriginal conveyance, when power was derived from the whole into\none[432].' Further, he points out that the king's power is strictly\nlimited (except in the case of conquest or of special appointment by\nGod), not only by the original compact, but also by after-agreement\nmade with the king's consent or silent allowance[433]. And men are not\nbound in conscience to obey such usurpers 'as in the exercise of their\npower do more than they have been authorized to do[434].' But on the\nother hand, he maintains strongly, as against those who thought that\nhuman laws could in no sort touch the conscience, the duty of civil\nobedience in agreement with the law of God, and the sacredness, the\n'Divine institution,' of duly-constituted authority, whether 'God\nHimself doth deliver, or men by light of nature find out the kind\nthereof.'\n\nThus, the main points which have been brought out by Christian\nteaching as to the relation of Christian citizens to the civil\nauthority are: (1) first and foremost, the duty of obedience for\nconscience' sake, a duty which stands on the same level, and is\ninvested with the same sanctions as the most sacred claims; (2) the\nduty, in case of the civil authority issuing commands contrary to\nvirtue or religion, of disobedience on the same grounds as those which\nlead to obedience in the former case; (3) the duty of those wielding\nauthority to use it for the common good, and so as not to hinder, if\nthey cannot promote, the Christian religion; (4) the right, which may\nbe said in certain extreme cases to rise almost to a duty, of\nresistance to the arbitrary or unconstitutional extension of authority\nto cases outside its province.\n\nThe same emphasis on higher motives is characteristic of Christian\ntreatment of the questions connected with property. Christianity is\ncertainly not pledged to uphold any particular form of property as\nsuch. Whether property had better be held by individuals, or by small\ngroups, as in the case of the primitive Teutonic villages, or of the\nmodern Russian or Indian village communities, or again by the State,\nas is the proposal of Socialists, is a matter for experience and\ncommon sense to decide. But where Christian ethics steps in is,\nfirstly, to shew that property is secondary not primary, a means and\nnot an end. Thus, in so far as Socialism looks to the moral\nregeneration of society by a merely mechanical alteration of the\ndistribution of the products of industry or of the mode of holding\nproperty, it has to be reminded that a change of heart and will is the\nonly true starting-point of moral improvement. On the other hand, it\ncannot be too often asserted that the accumulation of riches is not in\nitself a good at all. Neither riches nor poverty make men better in\nthemselves. Their effect on character depends on the use made of them,\nthough no doubt the responsibility of those who have property is\ngreater, because they have one instrument the more for the purposes of\nlife. And so, secondly, Christianity urges that _if_ there is private\nproperty, its true character as a trust shall be recognised, its\nrights respected and its attendant duties performed. These truths it\nkeeps steadily before men's eyes by the perpetual object-lesson of the\nlife of the early Church of Jerusalem, in which those who had property\nsold it, and brought the proceeds and laid them at the Apostles' feet,\nand distribution was made unto every man according to his needs[435],\nan object-lesson enforced and renewed by the example of the monastic\ncommunities, with their vow of voluntary poverty, and their common\npurse. So strongly did the early Fathers insist on the duty, almost\nthe debt, of the rich to the poor, that isolated passages may be\nquoted which read like a condemnation of all private property[436],\nbut this was not their real drift. The obligation which they urged was\nthe obligation of charity.\n\n(2) So far we have considered the way in which Christianity has\nstrengthened and defined on the side of duty, which itself is one form\nof charity or love, the motives which make men good citizens, good\nproperty-holders, and so has supplemented the moral forces of the\nState, by raising the common standard of opinion and conviction on\nwhich ultimately all possibility of State-action rests. But the word\ncharity is used not only in the wider, but also in a narrower sense,\nof one special form of love, the love of the strong who stoops to help\nthe weak.\n\nIt is admitted on all hands that charity in this sense has been a mark\nof the Christian type of character, but the uniqueness of Christian\ncharity has probably been exaggerated. The better Stoics recognised\nthe active service of mankind, and especially of the poor and\nmiserable, as part of the ideal of a perfect life. Their severity was\ncrossed by pity. As Seneca puts it in one pregnant phrase, they held\nthat 'wherever a man is, there is room for doing good[437].' And so\nStoicism had, its alimentationes, or homes for orphan children, its\ndistributions of grain, its provisions for the sick and for\nstrangers[438]. Christianity and Stoicism, it may seem, were walking\nalong the same road; but the difference was this, 'what pagan charity\nwas doing tardily, and as it were with the painful calculation of old\nage, the Church was doing, almost without thinking about it, in the\nplenary masterfulness of youth, because it was her very being thus to\ndo[439].' She did it with all the ease and grace of perfect\nnaturalness, not as valuing charity without love, for 'if I bestow all\nmy goods to feed the poor, and if I give my body to be burned, but\nhave not love, it profiteth me nothing[440],' but because love\nforthwith blossomed forth into charity. 'And the disciples were called\nChristians first in Antioch. And in these days came prophets from\nJerusalem unto Antioch. And there stood up one of them named Agabus,\nand signified by the spirit that there should be great dearth\nthroughout all the world.... Then the disciples, every man according\nto his ability, determined to send relief unto the brethren which\ndwelt in Jud\u00e6a[441].'\n\nAnd so it became the recognised and traditional duty of the Church to\nmaintain the cause of the weak against the strong, of the poor against\nthe rich, of the oppressed against the oppressors. The Bishops of the\nfourth and fifth centuries exercised 'a kind of religious\ntribunate[442].' In the Middle Ages, the Church urged on those in\npublic and private stations the duties of charity, pity, humanity. The\nauthor of the latter part of the _De Regimine Principum_[443] ascribed\nto S.\u00a0Thomas Aquinas lays down as one of the chief duties of a king,\nthe care of the weak and the succour of the miserable. Nor did the\nChurch in England in pre-Reformation times fail in her duty in this\nrespect. She pleaded for the manumission or at least the humane usage\nof the serfs. She undertook through her monasteries the relief of the\npoor. Her prohibition of usury, however mistaken it may seem to us,\nwas a real protection to debtors against one of the worst forms of\ntyranny, that of the unscrupulous creditor. Since the Reformation her\nrecord has not been so clean. The shock of the Reformation left her\nweak. The traditional sanctions of her authority were shaken. In the\nlong struggle of the seventeenth century her close association with\nthe Stuart cause left her powerless to touch the stronger half of the\nnation. She was not independent enough to act as arbiter, and in\ncommitting herself without reserve to opposition to the national claim\nfor freedom she was untrue to her earlier and better traditions. At\nthe same time allowance must be made for the licence, the disorder,\nand the recklessness with which the claims of liberty were associated,\nand for the identification of the popular party with views of\nreligion, which, whatever else may be said for them, are not those of\nthe Church. The leading churchmen believed that its triumph meant the\ndisappearance of that historical Church, which they rightly regarded\nas the only effective safeguard of English Christianity. After the\nRestoration the Church was stronger, and the increase of strength\nshews itself on the one side in greater independence of the Crown, and\non the other in the outburst of numerous religious and charitable\nsocieties and foundations. Queen Anne's Bounty is an instance of the\ncharity, if it be not rather the justice, of one distinguished\ndaughter of the Church. The 'Religious Societies' which in a quiet and\nunassuming way were a great influence in social life, had among their\nobjects the visiting and relief of the poor, the apprenticing of the\nyoung, the maintenance of poor scholars at the University. Charity\nschools were established throughout the country: hospitals and\nparochial libraries founded, while societies like the Society for the\nPropagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, and the Society for\nPromoting Christian Knowledge date back to the last years of the\nseventeenth and the first of the eighteenth centuries[444]. Then as\nthe Georgian period begins, all this vigorous life seems for a long\nperiod to die down, or only to find vent in the great Wesleyan\nmovement which, beginning within the Church, passes out beyond it, and\nultimately becomes stereotyped in more or less pronounced separation\nfrom her communion. It was the policy of the ruling Whig oligarchy to\nkeep down the Church, and they succeeded--to the grave loss of English\nmorality. If in some degree the Church in England at the present time\nis speaking with firmer accent on questions of personal and class\nmorality, and giving more effective witness against the luxury and\nneglect of their work-people, which are the besetting sins of the\ngreat English manufacturing classes, it is due partly to the revival\nin England of the true idea of the Church as a great spiritual\nsociety, and partly to the fact that English statesmen, from sheer\ninability owing to the conditions of political life to do otherwise,\nhave left her more free to manage her own business and to develop her\nmission to the English people in accordance with the laws and\naspirations of her own inner life.\n\nIt is especially necessary in a great industrial society such as that\nof modern England that the Christian law of self-sacrifice, which\ncrosses and modifies the purely competitive tendency leading each\nindividual to seek his own interest and that of his family, should be\nstrongly and effectively presented. No doubt it is true that the\nincreased knowledge of the structure and laws of social life which we\npossess, have made charity more difficult than in the Middle Ages:\nthey have not made it less necessary, or a less essential feature of\nthe Christian character. And so, in a democratic age, the protection\nof the weak and the oppressed will take a different colour. Whether\nsupreme control is in the hands of one or many, it may be used\ntyrannically. And the most effective exercise of the tribunate of the\nChurch will lie in guarding the rights of conscience and the great\nnational interest of religion against hasty and unfair pressure. And\nthis brings us to our next point.\n\n(3) The drift of the argument has been to shew the incompleteness and\ninevitable limitations of the State, considered as a moral guide of\nthe social life of mankind. But that incompleteness rises to its\nmaximum, those limitations press most closely when we pass from\nmorality to religion. If it is the highest duty of the State to\nmaintain true and vital religion[445], it is a duty which of itself it\nis altogether incompetent to perform. If the experience of the Middle\nAges shewed conclusively that the subordination of the State to the\nChurch did not tend either to good government, or to the maintenance,\npure and undefiled, of the Christian religion, the experience of\nEnglish post-Reformation history has as conclusively shewn that the\nsubordination of the Church to the State leads on the one hand to the\nsecularization of the Church, and on the other to a grave danger to\nnational life, through the loss of a spiritual authority strong\nenough, as well as vigilant and independent enough, to reprove social\nsins and to call to account large and influential classes. The\nconditions under which the Tudor idea of a Christian commonwealth was\npossible have passed away, and there seem to remain two possible\nconclusions from the premises.\n\nThe first is that it is expedient in the interests of both that Church\nand State should be separate from one another, as e.g. in America, and\nleft free to develop, each on its own lines, their respective missions\nin the national service--'a free Church in a free State.' The current\nof opinion in England in favour of disestablishment, undoubtedly a\nstrong, though probably not at the present time an increasing one, is\nfed from many smaller streams. There are Agnostics who believe that\nreligion is the enemy of progress, and that Christianity especially\nshackles free thought, and hinders the advance of social reformation,\nand to whom therefore it seems a clear duty to undermine by every\nmeans open to them the hold of Christianity on the centres of social\nand intellectual life, on schools and universities, families and\nstates. They favour disestablishment as one means to this end. Two\nprincipal causes seem to move those who are primarily statesmen in the\ndirection of disestablishment. One is the conception of the State as\nthe great controlling and guiding organization of human life[446],\nsupreme over all partial societies and voluntary associations formed\nto guard parts or sides of life, and the attempt to mould national\nlife by this guiding idea and its logical consequences. This attempt\nis encouraged by the extreme simplicity of the English Constitution in\nits actual working, and by the legally unlimited power of\nParliament[447]. The other is their practical experience that in view\nof the divided condition of English Christianity, the most stubborn\nand intractable difficulties in legislation arise from, or are\naggravated by, religious differences. They suppose that these would be\nlessened if the State took the position of impartial arbiter between\nrival denominations. Among Nonconformists there are no doubt some who,\nlooking at the Church as the natural rival of their own society, think\nto weaken her by disestablishment, but there are also many who believe\nthat disestablishment would be a gain to English religion, and that\nthe life of the Church would be more real, more pure, more governed by\nthe highest motives, if she were freed from all direct connection with\nthe State. Lastly, there is no doubt that the idea of the return to\nthe looser relations between Church and State which prevailed in the\nearliest Christian centuries, has a great attraction for a\nconsiderable body of churchmen. They would perhaps have been willing\nenough to accept the royal supremacy under a religious sovereign in\nthorough harmony with the beliefs and modes of working of the Church,\nbut the revolution by which the House of Commons has risen to supreme\npower in England, has given it, not in the theory, but in the actual\nworking of the constitution, the ultimate control over matters\necclesiastical as well as civil, and they hold that by stifling the\nfree utterance of the voice of the Church the House of Commons is\ndoing an injury to religion compared to which disestablishment would\nbe a lesser evil.\n\nOn the other hand, if we look beyond our own country, we have the\nopinion of the venerable Dr. D\u00f6llinger, reported by Dr. Liddon, that\nthe disestablishment of the Church in England would be an injury to\nthe cause of religion throughout Europe. And so weighty an opinion may\nwell make us carefully scrutinize those difficulties and tendencies\nwhich make for disestablishment. It is no doubt true that from one\npoint of view the _idea_ of the Church as a great spiritual society\nseems to require her entire freedom to control her own development,\nand therefore the absence of all formal connection with the State. But\nthere is nothing more deeply illogical and irrational, in any sense of\nlogic in which it is near to life and therefore true, than the attempt\nto solve a great problem, spiritual, moral, political, social, by\nneglecting all its factors but one, even if it be the most important\none. Nor does it follow that, because we recognise that in a certain\ncondition of things, more harm than good will be done by a particular\napplication of a truth which we accept, therefore we have ceased to\nhold that truth. It only shews that our ideal is complex.\n\nAnd so from another point of view the most perfect ordering of things\nwould seem to be one in which Church and State were two parts of one\nwhole, recognising one another's functions and limits, and mutually\nsupporting one another. Thus religion would be put in its true place\nas at once the foundation and the coping stone of national life. And\nthe State with all its administration would be given a distinctly\nChristian character. The difficulty in England is to maintain this\npoint of view in connection with the increasingly non-religious (not\nnecessarily anti-religious) colouring of the State, and of the fierce\nstruggles of party government which destroy the reverence which might\notherwise attach to the State and its organs. As the State has become\nincreasingly lay, its moral weight has sunk, its hold on consciences\nbecome less. But the truth remains that religion is an element in the\nhighest national life. 'A national Church alone can consecrate the\nwhole life of a people[448].' And a national Church can only mean an\nestablished Church, and a Church which either has great inherited\nwealth of its own, or is supported in part by national funds. 'Of all\nparts of this subject,' says Mr. Gladstone[449], 'probably none have\nbeen so thoroughly wrought out as the insufficiency of the voluntary\nprinciple.' It is insufficient (i.e. for maintaining national\nreligion), first, because after a certain level of moral deterioration\nhas been reached by individuals or masses of people, the demand for\nreligion is least where the want is greatest; and secondly, because in\nconsequence of the structure of social life there are always large\nclasses of the community who, while just provided with the bare\nnecessaries of life, have not sufficient means to enable them to\nsustain the expense of the organs of the higher life in any form. We\nrecognise this in the case of education; we can hardly refuse to\nrecognise it in the case of religion.\n\nFor these reasons we are thrown back on the second possible conclusion\nfrom the data, viz. that it is desirable that there should be some\ndefinite and permanent connection between Church and State, but not\nsuch connection as will either subordinate the State to the Church or\nthe Church to the State. And such a result would seem to be best\nattainable by some such system of relations as that between the\nEstablished Church and the State in Scotland, or the Roman Catholic\nChurch and the State in France. Thus in Scotland, on the critical\npoint of jurisdiction, the position is this. The Church Courts are\nfinal: there is no appeal to a Civil Court except on the ground of\nexcess of jurisdiction. And the judgment of the Church Courts, so far\nas it involves civil consequences, may be enforced by application to\nthe Civil Courts[450]. In France we have to distinguish the relations\nof Church and State as constitutionally defined from those relations\nin their actual working. No constitutional relations, however\nadmirable, can work when the State constantly encroaches, and where\nits whole attitude is one of hostility to the Church. In theory,\nhowever, the position in France is, except on one point, much the same\nas in Scotland. There is a complete system of ecclesiastical\njurisdiction in the Roman Catholic Church based on the Canon Law and\nadministered by the bishops acting as judges. From their decisions\nthere is no appeal to the Civil Courts except on the ground of abuse\n(appel d'abus). On the other hand, the Ecclesiastical Courts have no\ncoercive jurisdiction, nor are their sentences carried out by the\nCivil Courts[451]. They bind, therefore, only _in foro conscientiae_\nand this is found sufficient. There is one point worthy of special\nnotice in the French system, that while the relations of the State to\nthe Roman Catholic (once the Gallican) Church are regulated by a\nspecial Concordat, two leading Protestant bodies, the French Reformed\nChurch, and the Church of the Augsburg Confession, as well as the\nJewish body, are also endowed. Alongside of a system by which the\nChurch is established there is a concurrent endowment of other\nChristian and even non-Christian denominations.\n\nIn Scotland the relations of Church and State rest on the Act of\nUnion, in France on the Concordat made by Napoleon with the Pope in\n1801. In England there is no definite formulated agreement; and any\nsuch agreement would be entirely contrary to the English genius. But\nin a deeper sense, there is a contract, which is the product of 1200\nyears of history, of which the terms vary from generation to\ngeneration, and which is commended by each age to the forbearance and\nthe statesmanship of its successors. The terms of that contract are in\nthe main fixed by the State. In any case, whether the Church remains\nestablished or not, the State has ultimate power over her temporal\npossessions, as over all temporal possessions held within its\nterritory. But, if the Church is to remain connected with the State,\nperpetual difficulties must arise, unless means are found to leave the\nChurch free, in matters as well of doctrine as of ritual, both to\nlegislate through her own organs, and to exercise an independent\nspiritual jurisdiction. It is for the interest of the State that the\nChurch should be allowed to make her service for the English nation as\nfruitful, as powerful, and as little a hindrance to her own\nspirituality as possible.\n\n\nIII. Lastly we may consider the way in which the Church, quite\nirrespective of any direct connection with the State, as a natural\nconsequence of its position as a spiritual society and of its teaching\nas to fundamental moral and spiritual truths, acts as a purifying and\nelevating agent on the general social life of mankind, on all its\nmanifestations and organs.\n\nIf man is 'metaphysical _nolens volens_,' it is equally true that he\nis metapolitical, to use Martensen's happy word, _nolens volens_. And\nmetapolitic means 'that which precedes the political as its\npresupposition, that which lies outside and beyond it as its aim and\nobject, and by which the political element is to be pervaded as by its\nsoul, its intellectually vivifying principle[452].' Every statesman,\nevery real leader of men, has consciously or unconsciously, such a\nmetapolitic; he holds, that is, certain views as to man's place in the\nworld, as to the meaning and possibility of progress, as to the aims\nas distinct from the machinery of government, as to the relations of\nnations to one another and to humanity, which determine his general\nattitude towards all kinds of questions with which he has to deal. It\nis clear, for instance, that the groups of ideas which govern the\nfatalist, the pessimist, and the humanitarian, are widely different.\n\nNow the Church is the home and dwelling-place of certain great\nregulative ideas as to man's destiny and function, and his relation to\nGod and other men, the treasure-house to which they were committed, or\nthe soil in which they germinated. These ideas, if accepted and acted\non, or so far as accepted and acted on, must transform and remodel,\nnot only the inward life, but also the whole outward life in all its\nspheres. Thus S.\u00a0Paul deduces from the Christian conception of man,\nthe duties of husbands, wives, fathers, children, masters, servants,\nsubjects, rich persons, old men, old women, young men, young women.\nAnd so, now rapidly, now slowly, according to the vigour and purity at\nsuccessive periods of the Christian society, now thrown inwards by\nperiods of persecution or by the rising tide of evil, now borne\noutwards in periods of rapid expansion and missionary enterprise, now\nbrought to bear on new conditions of life and new social groupings,\nnow traced back to their source, and tested by the life and words of\nthe Word of God, the Christian ideas of man, and of his relation to\nGod radiate through the life of mankind, at once sustaining and\ncorrecting its aspirations, and its ideals of righteousness.\n\nThe root ideas of this Christian anthropology rest on the Christian\nconception of God as one yet threefold. Thus on the one side,\nChristianity attaches to the individual personality a supreme and\ninfinite value as the inmost nature of one made in the image of God,\nredeemed by the self-sacrifice of Christ, and indwelt by the Spirit of\nGod. And thus it develops the sense of separate personal\nresponsibility. It is on this basis that what is true in\nhumanitarianism rests. Behind all class and social differences lies\nthe human personality in virtue of which all men are equal[453]. But\non the other side it frankly recognises man's inherently social\nnature. It is not good for man to be alone. And family, State, and the\nChurch on earth are training places for a perfected common life in the\nCity of God.\n\nThe effect of this conception of man and his destiny is to place the\nState and its associations in their true position as not ultimate but\nsecondary, as means and not ends. Alongside of the earthly kingdom,\nwith its wealth, its honours, its ambitions, its wide and far-reaching\ninfluence, it sets another kingdom, the City of God, with its own\nstandards, its own principles, its own glory, its own blessedness, as\nthe end of mankind, the goal of history. 'The nations shall walk\namidst the light thereof, and the kings of the earth do bring their\nglory into it[454].' And, in so doing, it judges and corrects the\nsplendour of earthly States.\n\nIn thus contrasting the earthly State with the City of God,\nChristianity is no doubt exposed to the old accusation, that it makes\nmen bad citizens. And the old answer is still true, 'let those who\nthink that the doctrine of Jesus Christ cannot contribute to the\nhappiness of the State, give us soldiers and officers such as it bids\nthem to be, subjects and citizens as faithful as Jesus Christ\ncommands, husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, children, masters,\nservants, kings, judges, living according to the laws of religion, men\nas punctual in their payment of taxes, as pure in their handling of\npublic funds as are the true Christians: they will be soon forced to\nadmit that the maxims of the Gospel when practised cannot but give a\nState great happiness and great prosperity[455].' It is not too much\nbut too little Christianity which destroys States; for passion and\nwilfulness are the great disintegrating forces of the world, and\neverything which strengthens individuals to resist them, so far\nstrengthens the bonds of social union. But the service which\nChristianity renders to States goes far beyond this negative result.\nIf the true meaning of progress be moral, and not material, there can\nbe no greater contribution to the well-being of society than that of\nmaintaining the Christian type of character with its humility, its\npurity, its sincerity, and again its strong and beneficent activity.\n\nIn the present discussion the State has been put first and the Church\nsecond. In order of time the State is first. And what has been\nattempted has been to shew how starting with the State and its\ninstitutions, the higher order which was initiated by the historical\nIncarnation (though not without preparatory and imperfect\nanticipations in earlier and especially in Jewish history), comes in\nto mould, to purify, and to supplement. But these words only express\npartial aspects of the whole process by which a higher order acts on a\nlower. It interpenetrates far more deeply than can be expressed in any\nclassification of the modes of its operation. The Christian religion\nhas been acting on the group of States which we call Christendom from\nthe first days when stable organizations formed themselves after the\nentrance of the new life of the Germanic races into the remains of the\ndying Roman Empire. It has been the strongest of all the influences\nthat have moulded them throughout their history. It has pierced and\npenetrated the life of individuals, the life of families, the life of\nguilds, as well as the laws and institutions, the writings and works\nof art in which they have embodied their thoughts and hopes. They are\nin a sense its children. It is impossible to regard them as\nS.\u00a0Augustine regarded pagan Rome. But deep and penetrating as has been\nher influence and manifold her consequent implications with the\nexisting national and social life of mankind, the Church is\nessentially Catholic, and only incidentally national. It is their\nCatholic character so far as it remains, at least their Catholic\nideal, which gives to the different fragments of the Church their\nstrength and power. The 'Church of England' is a peculiarly misleading\nterm. The Church of Christ in England is, as Coleridge pointed out,\nthe safer and truer phrase. And this fundamental Catholicism, this\ncorrespondence not to one or another nation, but to humanity, rests on\nthe appeal to deeper and more permanent needs than those on which the\nState rests. It is thus that the true type of the Church is rather in\nthe family than in the State, because the family is the primitive unit\nof organized social life. Not in the order of time, but in the order\nof reason, the Church is prior to the State, for man is at once\ninherently social and inherently religious. And therefore it is only\nin the Church that he can be all that it is his true nature to be.\n\n[407] Law, _Third letter to the Bishop of Bangor_, second edition,\n1762, p. 66.\n\n[408] Martensen, _Christian Ethics_, special part, second division,\nEng. Transl. p. 98.\n\n[409] Church, Oxford House Papers, No. xvii, _The Christian Church_,\np. 10.\n\n[410] Holland, _Creed and Character_, first edition, 1887, p. 156.\n\n[411] xix.\u00a017.\n\n[412] i.\u00a06.\n\n[413] _Immortale Dei._\n\n[414] Aug. _De Civ. Dei_, xix.\u00a014, 15.\n\n[415] S.\u00a0T. Coleridge, _Church and State_, edited by H. N. Coleridge,\n1839, P. 24.\n\n[416] A. C. Bradley, 'Aristotle's Conception of the State,' in\n_Hellenica_, 1880, p. 243.\n\n[417] 'Metu coercet,' Aug. _De lib. Arb._ i.\u00a015.\n\n[418] Compare Aug. _De lib. Arb._ i.\u00a05.\n\n[419] Art. on 'Future Retribution,' _Church Quarterly_, July, 1888.\n\n[420] S.\u00a0Matt. v.\u00a048.\n\n[421] Eph. iv.\u00a013.\n\n[422] S.\u00a0Matt. v.\u00a05, 11, 39, 40.\n\n[423] S.\u00a0Matt. xxii.\u00a021.\n\n[424] Rom. xiii.\u00a01-10. Compare S.\u00a0Peter's teaching in 1 S.\u00a0Pet.\nii.\u00a013-17.\n\n[425] _Ad Scap._ II.\n\n[426] _Oratio in Auxentium de basilicis tradendis._\n\n[427] Aug. _De Civ. Dei_, v.\u00a017, but cp. _De bono Conj._ 16, for a\nrecognition of the possibility of the unjust use of legitimate power.\n\n[428] _Hom._ xxiii. on _Rom._ xiii.\u00a01.\n\n[429] Tyrannicide was defended by some of the more extreme opponents\nof the temporal power, like John of Salisbury, the secretary of Thomas\nBecket (_Policraticus_ VIII.\u00a017, 'Tyrannus pravitatis imago; plerumque\netiam occidendus'). But it was condemned by the sounder judgment of\nAquinas (_De Reg. Princ._ I.\u00a06, 'Hoc apostolicae doctrinae non\ncongruit').\n\n[430] Thomas Aquinas, _Comm. Sent._ XLIV. q. 2 a. 2; q. 1 a. 2. In\n_Comm. Pol._ v.\u00a01 \u00a7 2 he goes so far as to make Insurrection in\ncertain cases a duty.\n\n[431] Janet, _Histoire de la Science politique_, third edition, 1887,\nvol. i. p. 330.\n\n[432] Hooker, _Eccl. Pol._ VIII. ii.\u00a05, 9. Cp. I. x.\u00a04.\n\n[433] _Eccl. Pol._ VIII. ii.\u00a011.\n\n[434] _Eccl. Pol._ VIII. App. No. I. (ed. Keble.) Cp. I. x.\u00a08.\n\n[435] Acts iv.\u00a034, 35.\n\n[436] Especially in S.\u00a0Ambrose; the passages are collected in Dubief,\n_Essai sur les id\u00e9es politiques de S.\u00a0Augustin_, 1859, ch. vi.\nS.\u00a0Augustine himself opposed the obligatory Communism, advocated by\nPelagianism; cp. _Ep._ 157 (Ed. Bened.) to Hilary, quoted by Dubief.\n\n[437] Sen. _De vita beata_, 24.\n\n[438] Uhlhorn, _Christian Charity in the Ancient Church_, Eng.\nTransl.\u00a01883, Bk. I. ch. i. pp. 18-21, 41, 42.\n\n[439] Pater, _Marius the Epicurean_, Vol. II. ch. xxii. p. 127.\n\n[440] 1\u00a0Cor. xiii.\u00a03 (R.V.).\n\n[441] Acts xi.\u00a026-29; cp. also Acts iv.\u00a034, 35, quoted above.\n\n[442] Dubief, p. 11.\n\n[443] II.\u00a015.\n\n[444] Overton, _Life in the English Church_, 1660-1714, Ch. v.\n\n[445] Hooker, _Eccl. Pol._ VIII. i.\u00a04. In all commonwealths, things\nspiritual ought above temporal to be provided for. And of things\nspiritual, the chiefest is religion. Cp. V. i.\u00a02.\n\n[446] We have already shewn reasons for thinking that though no doubt\nthe State has _a_ great co-ordinating and regulative function in\nregard to human life, it is not fitted for the part of _the_ moral\nguide of mankind.\n\n[447] Dicey, _Law of the Constitution_, second edition, 1886, lecture\nii. p. 36, 'The principle of Parliamentary sovereignty means neither\nmore nor less than this, namely, that Parliament thus defined has,\nunder the English Constitution, the right to make or unmake any law\nwhatever; and, further, that no person or body is recognised by the\nlaw of England as having a right to override or set aside the\nlegislation of Parliament.'\n\n[448] Westcott, _Social Aspects of Christianity_, ch. v. p. 76.\n\n[449] _The State in its relations with the Church_, p. 41.\n\n[450] _Report of the Ecclesiastical Courts Commission_, Vol. II. p.\n601. Answers to questions,--Scotland, Established Church.\n\n'No appeal lies to a Civil Court in matters of discipline or on the\nground of excess of punishment. But if under the form of discipline\nthe Church Courts were to inflict Church censures (involving civil\nconsequences) on a minister for _e.g._ obeying the law of the land, a\nquestion ... might be brought before the Civil Court on the ground of\nexcess of jurisdiction. It is believed that in no case would the Civil\nCourt entertain an appeal from a judgement of an Ecclesiastical Court\non a question of doctrine, or enter on an examination of the soundness\nof such a judgement before enforcing its civil consequences.\n\n'Any questions which have arisen on points of ritual ... have hitherto\nbeen decided exclusively by the Church Courts.' (A qualifying sentence\nfollows as to possible extreme cases justifying, on the failure to\nobtain redress from the General Assembly, an appeal to the Civil\nCourt.)\n\n[451] _Report of Eccl. Courts Commission_, Vol. II. p. 605. Answers to\nquestions,--France.\n\n'The State remains _lay_, and does not interpose, except when the acts\nof the clergy are offences at Common Law, or when there is a _cas\nd'abus_ in which either the public order or individual interests are\ninjured. In which case the Council of State is summoned at the\ninstance of the Government, or on the complaint of the citizens, to\nrepress abuses and annul the _acts of abuse_ (actes d'abus) on the\npart of the clergy.\n\n'To recapitulate, the minister, as citizen, has to submit to the\nCommon Law; as priest, he belongs entirely to the jurisdiction of the\nChurch, with which the State _does not interfere_, and with which it\nhas not to interfere, for it is solely in the domain of conscience.'\n\n[452] Martensen, _Christian Ethics_, special part, second division,\nEnglish Translation, p. 100.\n\n[453] Cp. Aug. _De Civ. Dei_, v.\u00a024, of Christian Emperors, 'we think\nthem happy if they remember themselves to be _men_.'\n\n[454] Rev. xxi.\u00a024 (R.V.).\n\n[455] Aug. _Ep. ad Marcellinum_, 138, 15.\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\n_CHRISTIAN ETHICS._\n\nROBERT OTTLEY.\n\n\nThe study of early Church History suggests the conclusion that the\nChristian religion was recognised as a rule, or fashion of life,\nbefore it was discovered to be a philosophy and a creed. To be\ncomplete, therefore, any account of Christianity must include the\npresentation of it as a Divine 'way of life'--a coherent system of\npractical ethics, marked by characteristic conceptions of freedom,\nduty, the moral standard, the highest end of life, and the conditions\nof human perfection. Such is the task we are about to attempt. To the\nnecessary limitations of a sketch in outline, the reader may ascribe a\ngeneral avoidance of controversial, and a preference for positive,\nstatements; as also the fact that some large and interesting branches\nof the subject are dismissed with no more than a passing allusion.\n\nIt may be admitted, at the outset, that non-religious ethical\nspeculation has in a measure paved the way for a re-statement of the\nChristian theory, by its inquiries into the source and nature--the\nrational basis and binding force--of moral obligation. For it may be\nmaintained that in Christianity, rightly understood, is to be found an\nadequate answer to the question which all schools of thought agree in\nregarding as fundamental--the question '_Why_ must I do right?'\n\nOn the other hand, the Christian Church claims to meet the plain needs\nof average human nature by her answer to the question, '_How_ am I to\ndo right?' She claims to have at command practical means of solving a\nproblem which is admittedly abandoned as hopeless by the ethics of\nnaturalism. If Jesus Christ gave profound extension to the ideas of\nduty and obligation, He was also the first who pointed humanity to the\nunfailing source of moral power. In this respect Christianity presents\na favourable contrast to other systems, the tendency of which is to be\nso concerned with the Ideal as to underrate the importance and\npressure of the Actual. Christianity claims to be in contact with\nfacts; such facts as sin, moral impotence, perverted will, the tyranny\nof habit. And while she is large-hearted and eagle-spirited in her\nscope--dealing with all possible relationships in which a human being\nmay stand, whether to God above him, his fellow-men about him, or the\nsum of physical life below him; the Church is none the less definite\nand practical in method and aim; witness the importance she attaches\nto the individual character, the recreation of which is at least a\nstep towards a regeneration of society.\n\nThe chief point of distinction, however, between Christian and\nnon-Christian ethics is to be found in a difference of view as to the\nrelation existing between morality and religion. A system which so\nclosely connects the idea of Good with the doctrine of God, must needs\nat every point present conduct as inseparably related to truth, and\ncharacter to creed. It has been noticed indeed that Pliny's letter to\nTrajan--the earliest record we possess of the impression produced on\nan intelligent Pagan by the new religion--testifies to the intimate\nconnection of morals with dogma and worship. What the Christian\nconsciousness accepted as truth for the intellect, it embraced also as\nlaw for the will. Whether then we have regard to the practical\npurpose, or the wide outlook of the Christian system, we shall feel\nthe difficulty of giving even a fair outline of so vast a subject in\nso limited a space. If the idea of Good corresponds in any sense to\nthe conception of God, that idea must have an infinite depth of\nsignificance, and range of application. If the recreation of human\nnature be a practicable aim, no department of anthropology or\npsychology can be without its interest for ethics. It must suffice to\nindicate, rather than unfold, the points which seem to be of primary\nimportance.\n\nChristian Morals are based on dogmatic postulates. The foundation of\nour science is laid, not merely in the study of man's nature, his\nfunctions and capacities, but in revealed truths as to the nature and\ncharacter of God, His creative purpose, His requirement of His\ncreatures. We believe that Christ came to liberate human thought from\nsystems of morality having their centre or source in man[456].\n\n  Man is not God, but hath God's end to serve;\n  A Master to obey, a course to take,\n  Somewhat to cast off, somewhat to become....\n  How could man have progression otherwise?\n\nThe postulates may conveniently be distributed under three main heads:\nthe doctrine of God, of Man, of Christ.\n\nFor the purpose of ethics, two simple truths as to the Being of God\nrequire attention.\n\nGod is an Infinite, but _Personal_ Being; existing from eternity in\nthe completeness of His own blessedness, yet willing to become the\ncentre of a realm of personalities. To this end He called into\nexistence a world of personal beings, in a sense independent of\nHimself, but destined, in communion and intercourse with Himself, to\nfind and fulfil the law of their creaturely perfection. To these free\nand rational beings, Almighty God deigns to stand in self-imposed\nrelations.\n\nAgain, God is an _Ethical_ Being: He is essentially Holy and Loving.\n\nHe is Holy; and appoints that for the entire realm of personality, as\nfor Himself, holiness should be the absolute law. He alone can\ncommunicate to His creatures the idea of holiness; of a supreme,\neternal, ethical Good. The Good exists only in Him; is the essential\nexpression of His Nature, the reflected light of His Personality. The\nidea of ethical Good is not therefore due to a natural process by\nwhich the accumulated social traditions of our race are invested with\nthe name, and sanction, of moral Law. The idea is communicated,\nderived from the living Source of Good freely acting on the faculties\nof intelligent creatures who are capable of receiving such\ncommunications 'in divers parts and in divers manners[457].'\n\nThe apprehension of moral Law thus appears to correspond with a\nprogressive apprehension of God. Along with the idea of the unity and\nabsoluteness of God, heathendom lost the sense of an absolute moral\nLaw[458]; and conversely, in proportion as the Divine Nature manifests\nItself more fully to human intelligence, the idea of moral Good gains\nexpansion and depth.\n\nGod is also Love: a truth which as it helps our thought to a more\nprofound and consistent view of His mysterious Being, so implies that\nGod must needs will His rational creature to be what He Himself is,\n'holy and blameless before Him[459];' to engage itself in activities\nresembling His own; to be free with His Freedom; enlightened by His\nLight[460]. Nor can we think that Divine Love is content with a bare\nrevelation of moral _requirement_. We believe that what God requires,\nHe is ready and able to impart; He will empower man to render what His\nrighteousness exacts. Finally, if His purpose for man be interrupted\nor thwarted, He will 'devise means' for its final and victorious\nfulfilment. He, the Author of Creation, will in due time provide for a\nrecreation, not less potent and complete in its effects than the evil\npower which has invaded and marred the first creation[461]. For we can\nform no idea of Love other than that of an active, energizing\nprinciple by which a personal Being reveals Himself; a Being tenacious\nof His purpose, multiform in His expedients, supremely patient in His\nbeneficent activity. The God presupposed in Christian Ethics is One\nwho displays holiness combined with power, love controlled by wisdom:\nin a word, He is the God of redemptive history. Thus morality finds\nits starting-point in theology[462].\n\nThe Christian account of _Man_ next engages attention. We confine\nourselves to an inquiry into three points: what is man's essential\nnature, his ideal destiny, his present condition?\n\nWe have already observed that in Christian Ethics man is not the\ncentral object of study. The moral universe tends towards a more\ncomprehensive end than the perfection of humanity. Nevertheless\nChristianity is specially marked by a particular conception of man.\nRegarding him as a being destined for union with, capable of likeness\nto God, she offers an account of man's failure to fulfil his true\ndestiny, and witnesses to a Divine remedy for his present condition.\nThe familiar contrast between humanity as it might become, and as it\nis, gives significance to the peculiarly Christian doctrine of sin. It\nis the dignity of the sufferer that makes the mischief so ruinous; it\nis the greatness of the issue at stake that makes a Divine movement\ntowards man for his recovery at once credible, and worthy of God[463].\n\nFirst, then, we presuppose a certain view of man's nature.\nChristianity lays stress on the principle of _personality_, with its\ndetermining elements, will and self-consciousness. It is for\npsychology to accurately define personality. For ethics it is simply\nan ultimate, all-important fact. It is that element in man which makes\nhim morally akin to God, and capable of holding communion with Him;\nthat which places him in conscious relation to Law; gives him a\nrepresentative character as God's vice-gerent on earth, and conveys\nthe right to dominion over physical nature. If religion consists in\npersonal relations between man and God, religious ethics must be\nconcerned with the right culture and development of personality.\n\nBut in virtue of his creaturely position, man's personality cannot be\nan end to itself[464]. The tendency of Greek thought was to regard man\nas a self-centred being; to look for the springs of moral action, and\nthe power of progress, within human nature itself. Thus Aristotle's\nideal is the self-development of the individual under the guidance of\nreason, and in accordance with the law of his being. The question is,\nwhat is this law, and what the ground of its obligation? Personality,\nwe answer, marked man from the first as a being destined for communion\nwith, and free imitation of God[465]. Personality enables man to be\nreceptive of a message and a call from God. It confers on each\npossessor of it an absolute dignity and worth. _Personality_--here is\nour crucial fact; enabling us to take a just measure of man, and of\nour duty towards him. One of the deepest truths brought to light by\nthe Gospel was the value of the personal life, of the single soul, in\nGod's sight. Man is great, not merely because he thinks, and can\nrecognise moral relationships and obligations; but chiefly because he\nwas created for union with God; and was destined to find blessedness\nand perfection in Him alone. Christianity therefore rates highly the\nworth of the individual; and her task is to develop each human\npersonality--to bring each into contact with the Personality of\nGod[466].\n\nFor, secondly, man has an ideal destiny[467]--life in union with God,\na destiny which, as it cannot be realized under present conditions of\nexistence, postulates the further truth of personal immortality[468].\nMan is capable of progressive assimilation to God of ever deeper\nspiritual affinity to Him[469]. Such must be the ideal end of a being\nof whom it is revealed that he was made 'in the image of God.'\n\nBut the thought of the 'Divine image' leads us a step further.\nWhatever be the precise import of the expression, it at least implies\nthat the Good, which is the essence of the _Divine_, is also a vital\nelement in the perfection of _Human_ nature. It remains to indicate\nthe way in which man is capable of recognising Good as the law of his\nbeing, and embodying it in a character. Christianity, as a moral\nsystem, offers an account of _conscience_ and of _freedom_.\n\nThe Scriptural doctrine of conscience represents it as the faculty\nwhich places man in conscious relation to moral Law, as the expression\nof the Divine nature and requirement. In a brief sketch it is enough\nto lay stress on two points.\n\n1. Conscience appears to be an original and constant principle in\nhuman nature. To assign to it a merely empirical origin--to derive it\nfrom social evolution, from the circumstances, prevalent beliefs,\ntraditional customs of a human community, is inadequate, inasmuch as\nno such supposed origin will satisfactorily account for the\nauthoritativeness, the spontaneity, the 'categorical imperative' of\nconscience[470]. Further, the functions attributed to this faculty in\nScripture, e.g. 'judging,' 'accusing,' 'witnessing,' 'legislating'--all\nconvey the idea that man stands in relation to moral Law as something\noutside and independent of himself, yet laying an unconditional claim\non his will. In the Christian system the existence of conscience in\nsome form is regarded as a primary and universal fact. Its permanent\ncharacter is everywhere the same; its function, that of persistently\nwitnessing to man that he stands in necessary relation to ethical Good.\n\n2. The language of the Bible throughout implies that conscience in its\nearliest stage is an imperfect organ, capable like other faculties of\nbeing cultivated and developed. Our Lord's reference to the inward\n'eye' (S.\u00a0Matt. vi.\u00a022) suggests a fruitful analogy in studying the\ngrowth of conscience. In its germ, conscience is like an untrained\nsense, exercising itself on variable object-matter, and hence not\nuniform in the quality of its dictates. It is enough to point out that\nthis fact is amply recognised by New Testament writers. S.\u00a0Paul speaks\nmore than once of progress in knowledge and perception as a feature of\nthe Christian mind, and the faculty of discerning the Good is said to\ngrow by exercising itself on concrete material[471]. So again, the\nmoral faculty is impaired by unfaithfulness to its direction; the\nmoral chaos in which the heathen world was finally plunged resulted\nfrom such unfaithfulness on a wide scale. The Gentiles knew God, but\ndid not act on their knowledge. They 'became darkened;' they lost the\npower of moral perception[472].\n\nTo enlarge on this subject forms no part of our present plan. It is\nfair, however, to cordially acknowledge that Christian thought is\nindebted to psychological research for deeper and more accurate\nconceptions of the moral faculty; and the possibility of large\nvariation both in the dictates of conscience, and the certainty of its\nguidance, may be freely admitted. And yet it has been justly observed\nthat the question of the origin of this faculty is not one with which\nethics are primarily concerned. That inquiry is wholly distinct from\nthe question of its capacities and functions _when in a developed\nstate_[473]. The unconditional claim of conscience--this is the\nconstant factor which meets us amid all variations of standard and\ncondition. It is enough that conscience is that organ of the soul by\nwhich it apprehends moral truth, and is laid under obligation to\nfulfil it. A Christian is content to describe it as God's voice; or,\nin a poet's words,\n\n  God's most intimate presence in the soul\n  And His most perfect image in the world.\n\nFor Conscience, while making an absolute claim on man's will, appeals\nto him as a being endowed with a power of choice: and thus we pass to\nthe subject of _freedom_. What is freedom, in the Christian sense? In\nthe New Testament freedom is connected with truth. 'The truth,' it is\nsaid, 'shall make you free.' If man stands in a real relation to the\nGood, his true freedom can only mean freedom to correspond with, and\nfulfil the law of his nature[474]. The formal power of choice with\nwhich man is born--a power which in fact is seen to be extremely\nlimited[475]--is only the rudimentary stage of freedom. Will is as yet\nsubject to numberless restrictions, such that they seem utterly to\npreclude an unfettered choice. It is limited, for example, by the\ninfluence of heredity to an extent which often appears to determine\nunconditionally the choice between different courses of action.\n'Determinism' has at least liberated our thinking from the crude idea\nof freedom as man's power 'to do as he likes.' True liberty can only\nmean freedom from false dependence, emancipation of the will from the\nundue pressure of external forces, or inherited tendencies. The\ncondition of 'perfect freedom' is that in which man yields an unforced\naccord to the Good--his correspondence with it as the law of life. And\nas his formal power of choice becomes by habit more and more\ndetermined towards a fixed adherence to the Good, he begins to taste\nthe 'glorious liberty' of a right relation to God and His Law. He\nbecomes free with the liberty which is 'freedom not to sin,' he finds\nhimself 'under the sole rule of God most free[476].'\n\nLastly, Christianity as a moral system is distinguished by her view of\nman's present condition. His upward development has been interrupted.\nIn theological language he is a 'fallen' being, and the path of\nethical progress is a way of _recovery_[477]. Man's capacity of\ncorresponding with the ideal, of free self-conformity to it, though\nnot destroyed, is at least seriously impaired. His spiritual\ncapacities are not what they were once in a fair way to be; they are\nweakened and depraved, and man's advance towards a free power of\nself-determination is in fact hindered by a radical defect of will--in\nChristian language by the principle of Sin. The Bible gives an account\nof sin, its first cause, its consequences in human history. Christian\nEthics make allowance for this factor; systems which overlook it or\nminimize it inevitably lose contact with the actual problem to be\nsolved, with life as it is. Their tendency at best is to treat moral,\nas on a level with physical, evil: as an obstruction, a hindrance, but\nnot a vital defect inherent in human nature. Not such is the Christian\nview of sin. For sin conditions the work of the Incarnate Son Himself.\nNot only does Christ set Himself to re-erect the true standard of\ncharacter. He devotes Himself also to dealing with the actual ravages\nof moral evil. He teaches its intrinsic nature, its source in the\nwill, the inviolable law of its retribution; He reveals the\ndestructive potency of its effects; He labours as the Good Physician\nto remove its temporal penalties; He provides, in His atoning\nSacrifice of Himself, the one and only countervailing remedy[478].\n\nSuch postulates respecting the Nature of God and of Man find their\ncomplement and point of contact in the Catholic doctrine of the\nIncarnation. As to the Person of Christ, it is enough to premise that\nthe Christian system of ethics is intelligible only on the basis of a\ncomplete recognition of all that our Lord claimed to be. He came to\nreveal among men the nature, the ways, the will of the All-Holy; to\npresent the true pattern of human goodness; to be the perfect\nrepresentative of man before God[479]. He is the Revealer of God, as\nbeing Himself in the fullest sense One with God; He is the pattern of\nhumanity, in virtue of His sinless manhood; the representative,\nthrough His organic union with our race. His Resurrection and\nAscension together are the condition of His recreative action as a\nquickening Spirit on the entire nature of man. In a word His Person,\nHis work, His character form the central point of ethical inquiry and\ncontemplation[480]. To arrive at the true _differentiae_ of Christian\nmorals we need to study more profoundly the character and purpose of\nJesus Christ.\n\n\nI. _Christ's Revelation of the Highest Good._\n\nTo the Christian moralist the entire universe presents itself in the\nlight of a revealed purpose as capable of receiving a spiritual\nimpress, and as moving towards an ethical consummation. For although\nman is the crown of the physical creation, he cannot be independent of\nit in his advance towards the proper perfection of his being. The\ndestiny of nature is bound up with that of humanity, in so far as\nnature tends towards some form of ethical consciousness, presents the\nmaterial conditions of moral action, is capable of being appropriated\nor modified by moral forces--will and personality. Thus an inquiry\ninto the Highest Good for man gives to ethics a natural point of\ncontact with metaphysics[481].\n\nChrist Himself points our thought to this ideal region by presenting\nto us as the Highest Good, as the ultimate object of moral effort,\n_the kingdom of God_[482]. A precise definition of this expression may\nbe left to a formal treatise; but a certain complexity in the idea may\nbe briefly elucidated.\n\nIn the first instance the kingdom of God is spoken of by our Lord as a\nGood to be appropriated by _man_, through conscious and disciplined\nmoral effort. In this sense the kingdom is already 'within' men[483],\nthough not in its mature, or perfected stage. It is an actual state,\nspiritual and moral; an inward process or movement; a present\npossession. The attainment of this state involves 'Blessedness'--a\nword the true meaning of which is open to misconception. 'Blessedness'\nis not 'a mere future existence of imaginary beatitude[484];' not a\nbare independence of natural necessities; nor is it identical with,\nthough it may include, 'happiness.' The instinct in human nature to\nwhich Christ appealed is more fundamental than the desire of\n'happiness.' The word employed by Him to convey His meaning had by\nancient usage been connected with supposed conditions and modes of the\nDivine existence. 'Blessedness' in fact consists in a living relation\nto God, in a progressive likeness to Him; in its final stage it is\nnothing less than the possession of God. God is the Highest Good[485].\n\nThe kingdom of God is also to be conceived as the goal of the entire\nmovement of the universe: but while nature tends blindly towards some\nideal end, the history of mankind is the record of a Divinely-directed\nmovement carried on through free human agency[486]. For an ethical\nworld two factors are required; physical nature, the sphere of force\nand necessity; rational personality, conscious of freedom and of the\nclaim of authority. The goal of the universe is therefore a kingdom in\nwhich each element, physical nature and personality, finds its\nappropriate sphere, the one subordinate, the other dominant. We\ndiscern a prophecy of this result in Bacon's great conception of a\n'regnum hominis' attainable by intelligent obedience to nature. The\nBible is full of a greater thought. It foresees a kingdom of\nintelligent beings whose law is the service of God; a state in which\nthe inner harmony of man's restored nature will be reflected in a\nworthy outward environment. This ideal kingdom, however, has its\npreparatory stage on earth. Though the present condition of it only\nfaintly foreshadows the promised glory of the future, it has\nnevertheless been in fact set up among men, 'not in word, but in\npower.' For the main factor that makes such a kingdom ideally\npossible, already operates--namely, creaturely life realizing its true\ndependence on God, human will and human character responding to the\nwill and purpose of God[487].\n\nSuch is the kingdom for which we look, and its Centre and Head is the\nliving Christ[488]. He is the type after which the new personality is\nto be fashioned. He who unveils this world of spiritual beings and\npowers, is Himself the source of its movement, the centre of its\nattraction, the surety of its final triumph.\n\nThere cannot but result from this hope a particular view of the\npresent world. It is characteristic of the Christian spirit frankly to\nrecognise the natural world in its due subordination to personality,\nin its subserviency to ethical ends. An absolute idealism is not less\nalien to this standpoint than a crude materialism. The Christian is\nnot blind to the tokens of interdependence between the worlds of\nmatter and spirit; the fact indeed of such relation gives peculiar\ncolour to the Christian regard for nature. Nature is precious as the\nsphere in which a Divine Life is manifested, as the object of Divine\nLove[489]. And yet, in the light of revelation, the universe cannot be\ncontemplated without mingled emotions. The Christian knows something\nof the pain, and of the satisfaction which in their unchastened form\nwe call Pessimism and Optimism. For there must be sorrow in the\nrecollection of the causal link that unites physical to moral evil.\nThough pain has value as the condition of nobler phases of life, and\nheightened spirituality of character, it is nevertheless an evil\nproducing in a healthy nature something more than a transient\ndisturbance. Pain is the sensible, even if remote, outcome of moral\nperversity, of misdirected desire. It pervades impartially the\nphysical universe, but seems in manifold instances to point beyond\nitself to its source in human sin.\n\nAnd yet there is a Christian optimism--a thankful joy even amid\npresent conditions. There is the joy of at least a rudimentary\nrealization of the chief Good; the joy of setting a seal, as it were,\nto the truth of God[490]. The 'powers of the world to come' are\nalready within reach; they can be set in motion, felt, tested,\nenjoyed. There is a known end of creation by the light of which all\nforms and products of human enterprize can be judged. Thus even the\ngrowth and organized strength of evil does not dismay the Christian;\nfor he knows that the advance of the kingdom is certain, whatever be\nthe hindrances opposed to it, and that God's invincible will controls\nand overrules all that seems most lawless, and hostile to His purpose.\n'The city of God,' says S.\u00a0Augustine, 'is a pilgrim sojourning by\nfaith among evil men, abiding patiently the day when righteousness\nshall turn to judgment, and victory bring peace.' In his assurance\nthat 'all things work together for good to them that love God,' that\nthe end is certain, and human fears are blind, the Christian can be\nfree from illusions or extravagant hopes, yet not cast down,\n'sorrowful, yet alway rejoicing,' 'perplexed, but not in\ndespair[491].'\n\n\nII. _Christ's Revelation of the Moral Law, its authority, sanctions,\nand content._\n\nOn the place and meaning of freedom in Christian Ethics we have\nalready touched. Our formal freedom is the ground of moral\nresponsibility--that element in us to which Law makes its\nauthoritative appeal. From the thought of freedom in relation to a\nmoral universe we pass naturally to that of Law.\n\nAnd first, it is convenient to inquire what is the _revealed basis of\nobligation_ in general?\n\nThe most conspicuous feature of the Sermon on the Mount--that first\ngreat outline of Christian morality--is its authoritative tone. We\ninstinctively turn to it in searching for a fundamental principle of\nobligation, a ground of authority for Law. Nor are we disappointed,\nfor our question is met by the consideration that this great discourse\nis primarily a revelation of the personal God in His holy relation to\nmankind. It is with this personal relationship that the claim of moral\nGood on man's will is seen to be uniformly connected. The Good in fact\npresents itself to man in the shape of a _personal appeal_: 'Be ye\nholy, for I am holy.' Morality appears as God's exhortation to man to\nembrace and fulfil the true law of his nature. 'Be ye perfect,' it is\nsaid, 'even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect[492].' The\nGood is thus at once the explicit declaration of the Divine will, and\nthe condition of human perfection. Already the coldness of abstract\nLaw begins to disappear. Law is seen to be not an abstraction merely,\nbut inseparably connected with the living Personality behind it. It is\nthe self-revelation of a loving Being, appealing to the object of His\nLove, and seeking its highest welfare. Obligation is transformed, and\nis seen to be the tie of vital relationship between persons[493].\n\nFurther, it must be borne in mind that Christ's teaching as to\nobligation was accompanied by the promise of a supernatural gift--the\ngift of a new capacity to fulfil the Law. The Good had hitherto been\nknown, howsoever imperfectly, as requirement. Ethical progress before\nChrist's coming could only tend to deepen this knowledge. We know\nindeed what was the object of that long providential discipline of\nhumanity which culminated in the Incarnation: how it ended by driving\nman to look and long for a condition of things which should no longer\nbe marked by hopeless severance of the actual from the obligatory.\nWith the advent of the Redeemer, a new joy dawned on the world--the\npossibility of goodness.\n\nWe learn then that the ground of obligation is God's will for the\nperfection of His creatures--His desire that they should be like\nHimself[494]. The sense of obligation is indeed never absent from the\nconsciousness of Christ Himself. 'We must work,' He says, 'the works\nof Him that sent Me while it is day.' 'My meat is to do the will of\nHim that sent Me, and to finish His work[495]:'--in which utterances\nwe discern the principle we need. Only when duty presents itself in\nthe form of personal appeal, only when obedience is kindled and\nenriched by feeling, can law become a bond, not of constraint, but of\nlove.\n\nIt follows that obligation, thus founded on personal relationship to\nGod, is absolute and independent of variation in the specific demands\nof Law. Human goodness will consist in correspondence to the will of\nGod, and the degree of clearness with which a man apprehends that will\nis the measure of his obligation. This principle seems to preclude any\nidea of 'supererogatory works,' and tends to neutralise for the\nindividual conscience the distinction between 'commands' and 'counsels\nof perfection,' the spirit in which Law is ideally fulfilled being\nthat of sonship, eager, loyal, and generous[496].\n\nThe universal obligation of moral Law is by Christ connected for\npractical purposes with a system of _sanctions_. As to the Christian\ndoctrine of rewards and punishments it is only necessary to observe,\nthat any ethical system which has regard to the condition of man _as\nhe is_, finds itself constrained, for disciplinary ends, to lay a\ncertain stress on this point. Further, it should be noticed that the\nnature of these sanctions is seldom clearly understood. They occupy a\nplace in Christ's teaching, because it is His wont to deal with human\nnature as He finds it: He points, however, not so much to a future\nstate, as to a present spiritual sphere in which conduct is\nindissolubly linked to consequence, and there operate 'the searching\nlaws of a spiritual kingdom[497].' The sanctions with which Christ\nenforces His doctrine may thus be regarded as pointing to a reign of\nLaw in the spiritual realm which He reveals to mankind. He seems\nindeed to recognise the occasional need of appeals to fear, as likely\nto rouse the conscience and will. He sets before us the prospect of\nspiritual judgments acting, at least partially, in the sphere of the\npresent life. His more frequent appeal, however, is to what may be\ncalled the enlightened self-interest of men. Their true life, He tells\nthem, is to be found or acquired in a consecration, a sacrifice of the\nnatural life to the claims and calls of the Divine kingdom[498]. Such\nsacrifice, such co-operation with God, is its own ineffable reward.\n\nWhat then, it may be asked, are the _motives_, the inducements to\naction, appealed to by Christianity? how far are imperfect motives\nrecognised? and in view of the fact that no mere sense of relation to\nLaw is in general likely to move the human will, where does the Gospel\nfind its 'moral dynamic'--its highest motive?\n\nWe have seen that Christianity in a peculiar degree combines the\npresentation of duty with an appeal to feeling. In the same way by\nconnecting obligation to obey God with a revelation of His Love, Jesus\nChrist solves the most difficult problem of ethics. The highest motive\nis _Love to God_, kindled not only by the contemplation of His\nPerfections, but also by a passionate sense of what He has wrought in\norder to make possible the fulfilment of His Law. 'We love Him,' says\nS.\u00a0John, 'because He first loved us.' We do not, however, expect the\nmotive of actions to be in all cases identical, or uniformly\npraiseworthy. A practical system must recognise very different stages\nof maturity in character; and the possibility of imperfect or mixed\nmotives is frankly allowed by Christian thinkers, and seems to be\nsanctioned by our Lord Himself[499]. It may be said on the whole that\nwhile the Gospel ever appeals to man's desire for his own good, it\nadapts itself and condescends to widely varying forms and degrees of\nthat desire, by way of educating it to greater disinterestedness and\npurity[500]. We may fittingly speak of 'a hierarchy of motives,' and\ncan view with equanimity those attacks on Christianity which represent\nit as a thinly-disguised appeal to selfishness. For the reward\npromised to man is one which will only appeal to him in so far as he\nhas parted with his old self, and has made the Divine purpose his own.\nThe reward is joy--the 'joy of the Lord;' the joy of a worthy cause\nembraced and advanced; of a task achieved, of labour crowned by nobler\nand wider service. Such joy could only be an inspiring motive to\nself-forgetful love, which finds the fulfilment of every aspiration,\nthe satisfaction of every desire in God and in His work[501].\n\nChristian duty, the content of the Law, demands somewhat larger\ntreatment. It has been suggested that the conception of morality as a\nDivine code, as 'the positive law of a theocratic community,' which\nseems characteristic of early Christian writings on morals--is a\nlegacy from Judaism[502]. Be this as it may--the _distinctive_ feature\nof Christianity is that henceforth the Law is not contemplated apart\nfrom the Personality of God. The Law is 'holy, just, and good,'\nbecause it reflects His character. Obedience to it is acknowledged to\nbe the indispensable condition of true union between God and His\ncreatures. For Jesus Christ teaches us to discern in the Law the\nself-unveiling of a Being whose holiness and love it reflects, as well\nas His purpose for man.\n\nThe revealed Law is comprised in the Decalogue. It seems needless to\nvindicate at length the paramount place which this fundamental code\noccupies in Christian thought[503]. Suffice it to say that in broad\noutline it defines the conditions of a right relation to God, and to\nall that He has made. And the Law is 'spiritual[504].' Though for\neducative purposes primarily concerned with action, it makes reference\nto inward disposition, and thereby anticipates the main characteristic\nof Christian goodness. It also recalls the great landmarks of God's\nredemptive action; it sets forth His gracious acts, partly as an\nincentive to gratitude, partly as a ground of obligation.\n\nIn our Lord's teaching we find two truths implied: (1) The absolute\npriority and permanence of the Decalogue in relation to all other\nprecepts of the Jewish Law. (2) Its essential unity viewed as a Law of\nlove. This latter aspect is anticipated in the book of Deuteronomy,\nand is explicitly set forth by our Lord. There are, He tells us, two\ncommandments: the first and greatest, love to God; the second 'like\nunto it,' love to man, with the limitation annexed, 'Thou shalt love\nthy neighbour as thyself.'\n\nThus guided by precedent, a Christian, in examining the Law's\n_content_, may take the Decalogue as a natural basis of division. It\nmay be shortly analysed as embracing a comprehensive outline of man's\nduty towards (i) God, (ii) his fellow-men, and implicitly towards\nhimself and non-personal creatures.\n\nFirst stand duties towards God, resulting directly from the personal\ncontact assumed to be possible between God and man. The all-embracing\ncommand which involves the fulfilling of the Law is contained in the\nwords, 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with\nall thy soul, and with all thy mind[505].' In this 'great commandment'\nwe find the widest point of divergence from Pagan ethics. Man's true\ncentre is God. His perfection is to be sought in creaturely subjection\nand free conformity to the Divine purpose[506]. The general sphere of\nGod-ward duty is defined in the first four commandments, which are\nseen to give moral sanction, not only to the outward expression, but\nto the actual substance of belief; the distinctive duties enjoined\ntherein have been summarily described as faith, reverence,\nservice[507]. The fourth precept lays down the principle that man is\nbound to honour God by consecrating a definite portion of time to His\nworship, and by providing space for the due recreation of that human\nnature which by creative right is God's, and is destined for union\nwith Him.\n\nThe duty of love to our fellow-men follows upon that of love to God.\nEvery man's personality gives him absolute and equal worth in God's\nsight, and therefore lays us under obligation towards him. Heathen\nmoralists confined the sphere of obligation to a few simple\nrelationships, e.g. family-life, friendship, civic duty. But the\nrevealed law of love to man embraces _every_ relationship. 'Every man\nis neighbour to every man[508].' It is clear that any adequate outline\nof this precept involves the whole treatment of social duty. Men have\ntheir _rights_, i.e. lay us under obligation, both individually and\ncollectively. The individual has his 'duty' to fulfil to the family,\nthe association, the class, the city, the state, the Church which\nclaims him. The immense field of our possible duties towards society,\nand towards each individual, so far as he comes in contact with us,\nmay be regarded as embraced in the second table of the Decalogue. Thus\nthe fifth commandment lends important sanction not only to the\nparental claim, but also to the authority of fundamental moral\ncommunities--the family, the state, the Church. The following precepts\nregulate the security of life and personality, of marriage and sexual\ndistinctions, of property, honour, and good name. The tenth\ncommandment anticipates that 'inwardness' which constitutes the\nspecial feature of Christian morality. 'It is the commandment,' says\nan ethical writer, 'which perhaps beyond any of the rest was likely to\ndeepen in the hearts of devout and thoughtful men in the old Jewish\ntimes, that sense of their inability to do the will of God, and to\nfulfil the Divine idea of what human life ought to be, which is\nindispensable to the surrender of the soul to God[509].'\n\nBut according to the Christian theory there are duties to _self_,\nwhich seem to follow from the relation in which man stands to God, and\nform the true measure of his regard for others: 'Thou shalt love thy\nneighbour as thyself.' There is a right self-love, a right care of the\npersonality as being itself an object of God's Love, and so included\nin the category of things ethically good. What the Christian ought to\nlove, however, is not the old natural self, but the 'new man,' the\ntrue image of himself which has absolute worth[510]. A moral\ncomplexion is thus given to all that concerns the personal life--the\ncare of health, the culture of faculties, the occasions of\nself-assertion. Every moment of conscious existence, and every\nmovement of will,--all in fact, that relates to the personality--is\nbrought within the domain of Law. Christianity 'claims to rule the\nwhole man, and leave no part of his life out of the range of its\nregulating and transforming influence[511].' For in every situation,\ntransaction, or display of feeling, will is required to declare\nitself: moral activity takes place. Duties to self, as loved by God,\nare thus implied in the 'great commandment.' For God therein requires\nof man a consecration of the entire _self_, an inward self-devotion, a\nreasonable, heartfelt service: He asks for love. From this point of\nview, sin--the false claim to independence--is simply wrong self-love.\n\nSome would even class all shapes of sin as falling under two main\nforms of self-assertion, arrogance and sensuality. And S.\u00a0Augustine\nsuggests a profound view of the development of the true, as compared\nwith the false society, when he says: 'The two cities owe their being\nto two forms of love; the earthly, to self-love; the heavenly, to the\nlove of God[512].'\n\nIt remains to extend the principle of love to the non-personal sphere\nwith which man is in contact. We have seen that absolute worth belongs\nonly to personality. But man's relation to the creatures below him in\nthe scale of development, implies a field of duties of which ethics\nmust take cognizance. The non-personal part of nature is ordained for\nsubjugation by man. It is included in his dominion: _terram dedit\nfiliis hominum_. Yet even in the Mosaic Law we find respect enjoined\nfor certain distinctions of nature, which are not to be overridden or\nconfounded. The physical order, like the moral, was to be regarded as\nsacred[513]. Duties, then, of this kind exist: and they are apparently\ncomprehended in the fourth commandment, which expresses God's creative\nclaim on typical orders of living creatures, ordaining that 'cattle'\nare to share the benefit of the Sabbath rest. The sixth and eighth\ncommandments again imply the sanctity of physical life, and of\npersonal property. And if we pass behind the decalogue, we find\nanimals included in a sense within God's original and irreversible\ncovenant[514]. The control therefore of human will over nature,\nanimate and inanimate, though comparatively absolute, is yet subject\nto the restrictions which love suggests. For the natural world also\ndisplays the omnipresent control, and watchful providence of a Being\n'Whose mercy is over all His works.' Physical life in this sphere may\nbe treated as a means; but it must also be dealt with 'in harmony with\nthe creative Thought[515].'\n\nIn quitting the subject of duty, we do well to mark the infinite\nextension given to the idea by the treatment of it in connection with\nthe doctrine of an Infinite and Holy God. Our Lord, illustrating His\nexposition of the ancient Law by a few significant examples, not only\nopened to His hearers the possibility of a spiritual, transcendent\nmorality, but also laid down a far-reaching principle of obligation.\nThe self-unveiling of the Infinite Being evidently makes an infinite\nclaim on the will and affection of intelligent creatures.\n\nWith this extension of morality we might compare a somewhat parallel\nfeature in the aesthetic sphere.\n\nInto the arts also, notably into architecture and music, the Christian\nspirit introduced the element of mystery, and found expression in them\nfor the idea of infinity--an idea so alien to the Greek genius, which\nhad ever contemplated beauty, and therefore ethical Good, as something\nessentially limited, measurable, symmetrical, exact[516]. Such a\nthought might suggest a line of abstract discussion; but practical\nneeds remind us that the true range of obligation is best interpreted\nto us by a living ideal. As the writer of _Ecce Homo_ remarks, 'The\nlaw which Christ gave was not only illustrated, but infinitely\nenlarged, by His deeds. For every deed was itself a precedent to be\nfollowed, and therefore to discuss the _legislation_ of Christ is to\ndiscuss His character; for it may be justly said that _Christ Himself\nis the Christian Law_[517].'\n\nThe transition from the discussion of moral Law to that of Christian\ncharacter seems at this point natural and simple.\n\n\nIII. _Christ the Pattern of Character._\n\nThe stress which in Christian Ethics is laid upon personality scarcely\nrequires further illustration. The principle of personality underlies\nour fundamental assumption that man is capable of free communion with,\nand imitation of, God. We believe that the union between God and man\nwas consummated in and through a Person. Further, the spirit in which\nfulfilment of the Law is possible--the spirit of filial love--can only\nexist in personal relations. It corresponds with this general\nprominence of personality that Christianity presents the ideal\nstandard of human character in a Person.\n\nIn passing may be noted the fact that this principle to some extent\nemerges in ancient systems. Aristotle's definition of virtue naturally\noccurs to us as admitting the function of an 'expert' (\u1f41 \u03c6\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f41\n\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03b1\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2), in the right estimation of moral action. The Stoic again\nseeks or invents a trustworthy standard in his ideal conception of the\n'wise man.' It seems possible that modern non-Christian ethics will\nultimately substitute for the cultivated sense of mankind some form of\npersonal ideal[518]. For 'the Law attains its lovable form, its\nbeauty, only when it becomes personal[519];' and it might be said with\ntruth that no idea can be formed of virtues in the harmony of their\ncombination, until they are seen embodied in a person. Just as\ntheology has in the study of Divine truth concentrated her gaze on the\nPerson of Jesus Christ as a _revelation of God_; so ethics, in the\neffort to formulate the law of moral perfection, must study the same\nDivine Person as a _type of character_.\n\nIt is necessary therefore at the outset to recall some salient\nfeatures of the great Example.\n\nThe character of Jesus Christ has been a subject of study to thinkers\nof every period in Christian history, and of infinitely varied\nqualifications for the task. Some have in the supposed interest of\nmorality been tempted to lay disproportionate stress on the fact of\nour Lord's manhood. They ask how Christ can be an example to humanity,\nunless he be a Man like other men[520]? From a Christian standpoint,\nhowever, it is clear that the efficacy of that Example depends on\nChrist's being a Man _unlike_ other men--unlike them in His relation\nto the Divine requirement, unlike them in His power of contact with\nthe entire race. Thus we find ourselves in correspondence with\ndogmatic truth. The mystery of atonement necessitates a sinless\nVictim; the Christian conception of human life requires a sinless\nExample. The perfect pattern of mankind must in one material respect\nbe as far as possible isolated and removed from the race He came to\nredeem: for sinlessness is a part of the Divine thought concerning\nhuman nature.\n\nIf again we take into account the scope and significance of His\nredemptive work, it is vain to compare Christ with 'other great men.'\nHe came not merely as the Example, but as the Redeemer and Saviour of\nhumanity. Were He merely the Example, His departure would have left\nmankind in even deeper anguish and helplessness than before His\ncoming. Man would have seen the Light, and felt its attraction, only\nto find himself powerless to follow.\n\nAnd thus, because Christ is a Man unlike all other men, we need in\ncontemplating His character the caution that 'the Divine Reality is\napart from, and even greater than what the greatest have thought of it\nand said of it[521].' The ideal conception of character presented\neither in Pagan thought, or even in the volume of Messianic prophecy,\nhas been indefinitely enriched, and illuminated by the LIFE which had\nbefore been only dimly foreshadowed, or at the best darkly understood.\n\nNow it may be said, with no violation of the proportion of truth, that\nthe most important part of the Gospel revelation concerned man's true\nrelation to God. In the forefront of Christ's teaching is set the\ndoctrine of the Divine Fatherhood. He impressed this truth on men not\nmore by His express utterances, than by the example of His own\nhabitual attitude towards God. It may be justly allowed that our Lord\ntaught, and displayed among men 'a new type of goodness, the filial\nand dependent.' In Him we see the activity of 'a perfectly filial\nwill[522].'\n\nIt will be useful to expand this suggestive thought somewhat more\nfully.\n\nFirst, then, we see in Christ the perfect example of _filial\ndependence_ on God[523]. This dependence is not mere passivity of\nwill--such as the record of the Temptation exhibits; not simply a\nconfiding trust in the providence and sustaining power of God. We\nrather see in Christ's spirit of dependence a motive which impels Him\nto fearless, unfettered activity, and supports Him under the keenest\nstress of trial and suffering. He speaks and acts ever as One who, in\neach situation, is aware of the controlling hand of infinite Wisdom\nand Love. He has that entire security in the certainty of Divine\nguidance, to which no emergency comes as a surprise, no call for\naction brings disturbance. He knows that 'the works' which tax His\nhuman faculties, and weary His bodily frame, are such as the Father\n'has given Him to perfect.' A filial trustfulness is thus the secret\nat once of His energy and His repose; His promptness in action and His\ncalmness in awaiting the suitable moment for it; His unbroken\nheavenly-mindedness and His self-spending devotion in ministry and\nworks of love. It makes possible the majestic serenity which never\ndeserts Him during the scenes of His Passion. 'I am not alone,' He\nsays, 'because the Father is with Me[524].'\n\nIn such a spirit of dependence may be recognised the true law of\ncreaturely life; and there is nothing in that spirit which degrades or\nimpairs the true dignity of human nature. Nay, there is something in\nthis dependence of a filial heart which seems to chasten and exalt the\ncharacter, while it quickens the intelligence of man. For in\nfulfilling his own true law, and responding to the will of his Maker,\nman finds himself admitted to the secret of the universe; he is in\nharmony with the purpose that underlies and guides its entire\nmovement. So also, we venture to say, it is with the Ideal Man.\n'Everywhere He sees the Divine unity of thought which permeates,\nembraces, and binds all things together, the spiritual and the\nmaterial, the visible and the invisible, the earthly and the heavenly,\nin one vast economy[525].' To Him the promise seems fulfilled, 'Thou\nshalt be in league with the stones of the field, and the beasts of the\nfield shall be at peace with thee.' To Him the world of humanity, and\nthe world of physical nature disclose their inner law; He knows what\nis in them; He intuitively reads their secret; He can trace beneath\nthe apparent discords of the universe the outlines of a broken, but\nrecoverable, harmony. And thus the attitude of filial dependence on\nGod is found to be the condition of a right relation to all that He\nhas made; it opens the way to a true understanding of God's ways, and\nof that living principle of Love which binds all things in one--binds\nthem indeed\n\n  by gold chains about the feet of God.\n\nNext, we may contemplate Christ's character as the type of _filial\nobedience_[526],--of a complete harmony between human will and the law\nof holiness. In Christ the ideal of free will is realized[527]. We are\nnot now concerned with the vast issues of that sinless obedience. It\nis enough to study it as embodying a principle of purely human\nperfection, enjoined indeed repeatedly in the Old Testament as the one\ncondition of covenantal union with God, but once only in history\nadequately fulfilled in a human life. Obedience, based on absolute\ntrust in the character and purpose of God; an 'obedience of faith,'\nyet in its essence the obedience not of a servant, but of a son; an\nobedience that refuses nothing, shrinks from nothing, questions\nnothing that presents itself as Divine requirement: such is seen to be\nthe law of Christ's Life, the law to Him of action and of endurance,\nthe rule of prayer, the principle of sacrifice, the motive of service,\nthe well-spring of thanksgiving and joy. If the entire completeness of\nthis obedience becomes One who wears 'the form of a servant;' the\nwillingness of it marks the glad service of a Son. And because the\nfulfilment by Jesus of the Father's will is spontaneous, free,\nwhole-hearted, sacrificial, it wins acceptance as the offering of One\n'well-pleasing' and 'beloved.' Perfected by submission to suffering\nand death, the obedience of Jesus is stamped with the token of Divine\nsatisfaction by His rising from the dead.\n\nAnd finally, Christ is the perfect pattern of _filial love_. He taught\nthe human heart that the All-Holy God can be the object of its highest\naffection, its purest passion, its deepest joy. In Christ we see the\nfilial character consummated; in Him we find the union of serene\nrepose with consuming zeal, unwavering loyalty, and sympathetic\nself-devotion to the Father's work; in other words we find creaturely\nperfection, combined with the spirit of sonship. In many and\nmysterious ways indeed, does this filial love of the true Son display\nitself: in a hunger and thirst after righteousness; in a patience\nwhich can bide the time, and endure the chastisements, of God; in an\noverflowing tenderness towards all God-created beings because they are\nHis and in their measure bear witness of Him; in a faith which 'hopeth\nall things' and labours to make all things perfect. Such is the spirit\nof the Son: and we 'learn of Him' the loftiness of the height to which\na filial love of God may raise human character, the tenacious strength\nit may impart to human will, the peace it may shed on a human heart.\nLove is 'the bond of perfectness,' and to wear the image of the Son is\nto be conformed through Love to the likeness of the Father\nHimself[528].\n\nThe example of virtue is thus seen in a character, of which some\naspects have been just considered: and we may pause at this point, in\norder to form some conclusion as to the factors of virtuous action\njudged from the Christian standpoint.\n\nTo have moral worth, an action must be the outcome of an entire bent,\nor disposition of the agent. Good fruit is to be expected only from a\ngood tree[529]. In the virtuous act the agent's personality is engaged\n_as a whole_; his whole nature is directed towards a single object.\nThis inward unity is perhaps what we really mean by 'simplicity.' In\nsuch action, the human being most nearly approaches the concentrated\nand harmonious energy of the Divine Life[530]. The person acts as an\nundivided whole, each part of his nature is for the time directed\naright.\n\nBut we are here reminded that man's nature is disordered: it can\nproduce nothing truly good, except in so far as it is restored to\nharmony by Divine power. God, says Thomas Aquinas, calls us to a\nsupernatural end, which by his natural powers man could not attain.\nGod Himself must therefore impart the supernatural principle necessary\nto aid man in responding to the call[531]. No act, in short, can be\nstrictly called 'good' which is dissociated from the direct action of\nGod: for 'there is none good but One, that is God:'\n\n  O work thy works in God; He can rejoice in nought\n  Save only in Himself, and what Himself has wrought[532].\n\nWe conclude that in a good action there is a true harmony of the\ndifferent elements in personality--intelligence, affection, will; and\nfurther that such harmony presupposes the action of supernatural power\non man's nature. It agrees with this that Christian moralists give to\nthe chief principles of virtuous action the name of 'theological\nvirtues,' and regard them as supernaturally imparted.\n\nA good action, then, implies right _intelligence_. There must be an\nexercise of faith, which is a principle of knowledge--a correspondence\nbetween human faculties and an unseen object. Faith accepts the good\nas the proper element of man's perfection; takes God at His word, and\naims at pleasing Him. 'Without faith it is impossible to please\nHim[533].' Next, _will_ asserts itself. Will is directed towards an\nend desirable and attainable by effort: and thus is inspired by Hope.\nA study of Christ's example suggests that the highest object of hope\nfor man is the perfection of his nature through the means appointed by\nGod[534]. We see in Christ something of the desire, and the joy of\nmoral achievement. When He said that 'the _workman_ is worthy of his\nreward,' He pointed to the possibility of a true, unselfish pleasure\nin good work as such: of that thirst for perfection and\nself-dissatisfaction which distinguishes the true artist from common\nmen.\n\nLastly, there remains that which is the dominant factor in Christian\ngoodness. Love. There is an element of _passion_ in Christlike\nholiness, which differentiates it from philosophic conceptions of\nvirtue as a tranquil, balanced state[535]. Love gives worth to the\nfulfilment of duty; embraces, in union with God, the Divine aim of\ncreation; and manifests itself in spontaneity and inventive activity,\ntransforming the fulfilment of obligation into an occasion of joyous\nand delightful service. Our Lord represents this 'ardent, passionate,\ndevoted state' of heart as the real root of virtue. Without it the\nmost punctilious obedience is nothing; for not to love is not to\nlive[536].\n\nHaving thus indicated the place of intelligence, will, and affection\nin virtuous activity, we are free to study the Christian character,\nand perhaps ascertain its permanent features--those elements in it\nwhich have survived the test of such wide variety of historical\nconditions. We have to inquire what is common to the types of\nChristian life which different ages, states of civilization, and forms\nof nationality have produced? For character is that which is capable\nof development in varied situations, of free and spontaneous\nself-adaptation to every change of environment. Circumstance proves\nits quality, offers it a field of exercise, and ministers to its\ngrowth.\n\nOur task is rather to sketch a _character_ than to classify _virtues_.\n'The earliest Christians,' says the writer of _Ecce Homo_, 'felt a\nnatural repugnance to describe the goodness at which they aimed by the\nname of Virtue.' Within limits indeed such a classification is\npossible: and a principle of division may be applied even to a thing\nso mysterious, so subtle in its shapes and gradations, so fruitful in\nsurprises, as character. We may, for instance, take as a basis the\nprinciple of personality, and consider the Christian personality in\nits threefold relationship: to God, to itself, to its neighbour, and\nin contact with the hindrances, moral and physical, presented by its\nenvironment[537].\n\nI. The Christian personality in relation to God.\n\nThe distinctive feature of Christian character consists in\nconsciousness of that filial relation to God which Grace restores; of\nthe spiritual bond that exists between the human soul and 'Him who is\ninvisible.' Hence the goodness at which the Christian aims is that\nwhich will bear the searching light of the Divine eye. 'He chose us\nout of the world,' says S.\u00a0Paul, 'that we might be holy and blameless\n_before Him_.' Thus in its essence Christian character is based on a\npeculiar sense of relationship to God; there underlies it a constant\ndesire of union with God, a temper of loyalty, a spirit of thankful\ndependence, a feeling of nearness to the Divine presence. Were it\ntrue, as has been said, that 'the Divine service' had '_become_ human\nservice[538],' Christian character as a distinct type would have\nceased to be.\n\nFrom this attitude of mind and will two results follow: first,\nsingleness of aim,--the 'single eye.' The sense of personal relation\nto God gives directness, truthfulness, simplicity to speech, action,\nand thought. So far as he is true to his profession a Christian is\nindependent of the current opinions of his age, or community, seeking\nonly to live 'in all good conscience' towards God. The conviction of\nan unseen Presence guides his actions; an unseen Witness penetrates\nhis thought; an unseen Master holds him accountable. Indeed, S.\u00a0Paul\nseems to regard holy living as consisting simply in the endeavour to\n'please God[539].'\n\nAnd a second characteristic of the Christian is his view of life in\nthe world, of nature, of humanity itself. He observes, judges,\nestimates all things from the standpoint of the spiritual mind. He\naims at bringing his own thoughts and desires into harmony with the\nDivine will and purpose. He looks out on the world, with its complex\nsocial order, its fascinating interest, its appealing needs, as a\nsphere in which for a while he is called to move, and to labour. Into\nthe varied tasks and interests of life he can throw himself with\nlarge-hearted sympathy, and with the greater fervour because the time\nis short, and the need of self-forgetful activity urgent. 'Once a real\nChristian,' writes Lacordaire, 'the world did not vanish before my\neyes; it rather assumed nobler proportions as I myself did. I began to\nsee therein a noble sufferer needing help. I could imagine nothing\ncomparable to the happiness of ministering to it under the eye of God,\nwith the help of the Cross, and the Gospel of Christ[540].'\n\nBut the world is not the Christian's 'abiding city.' He walks in it,\nand passes through it in pilgrim fashion, with heart detached from it\nand all that it can give. He cannot commit himself to the world, nor\nidentify himself with it. He has the internal freedom of a heart that\nhas found its true centre; he is able to estimate visible things at\ntheir real worth, and\n\n  To stand in freedom loosened from this world[541].\n\nThus to have the 'mind of Christ' is to judge of life and the things\nof time with His judgment, to see with His eyes, to be inspired by His\n_Wisdom_. So we find ourselves in natural contact with the division of\ncharacter by 'cardinal virtues.' 'Prudence' or 'Wisdom' is the outcome\nof a right relation to God. God only, S.\u00a0Augustine says, is to be\nloved; this world, and all sensible things, are to be used. Prudence\nis love discerning between the things which bring it nearer to God,\nand those which hinder it from approaching Him[542].\n\nII. In relation to humanity, and creaturely life in general, the\nChristian finds scope for 'active morality[543],' for ministering\nlove. The life of union with God inspires and prompts the life of\nservice to mankind. The infinitely varied relationships of life\nconstitute so many forms of moral obligation. Christian _Justice_\nmeans nothing less than rendering to _all_ their due. The desire to\nimitate God is at once the motive and the rule of Christian\nactivity[544]. And this desire finds expression in two distinctively\nChristian graces: the spirit of _forgiveness_ and the spirit of\n_compassion_.\n\nThe inculcation of forgiveness is 'the most striking innovation' in\nthe ethics of the Gospel[545]. Greek thought on the subject presents a\nremarkable contrast. Aristotle is inclined to regard forgiveness as a\nform of weakness, but allied to virtue in so far as it involves\nresistance to passion. The ground of Christian forgiveness is very\ndifferent. The duty of it follows partly of course from a\nconsideration of the common human nature which the offender shares\nwith the injured; partly also from a dispassionate view of the injury\ninflicted. In exercising forgiveness we suppress that false self-love\nor partiality which magnifies a private injury. The Christian loves\nhimself _not more_ than he loves his neighbour. He can put himself in\nthe offender's place, and consider what is for his highest good. He\nwill not allow the sense of injury to interfere with, or override the\nexercise of good-will even towards enemies. Certainly, the sense of\nhis own moral frailty, and of his indebtedness to Divine mercy, will\nrestrain the Christian from vindictiveness or harshness in regard to\nthe faults of others; while the fact of the equality of men in\nrelation to their common Father, invests even the anti-social sinner\nwith the dignity of brotherhood[546]. But forgiving love is no mere\nexpression of self-distrust. It is fired by something of the generous\nhopefulness, the quickness to detect latent capacities of nobleness\neven in the worst, which is the glory of the Divine forgiveness. It\n'rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth with the truth;' 'believeth\nall things, hopeth all things.' The Greek indeed had his idea of\nforbearance; to him it meant something less than strict justice; it\nwas a virtue difficult to place or estimate. Logically, it was\nscarcely to be praised. At the best it would never have implied the\nhabitual duty of active forgiveness.\n\nNot less distinctive of the Christian character is _compassion_[547],\nand the active beneficence which results from it. Humanity, by Jesus\nChrist, was transformed: it was 'changed (to adopt a celebrated\nphrase) from a restraint to a motive.' Compassion may display itself\nin readiness both to relieve the physical needs of another, and to\nedify his character. To love one's fellow-man as one's self implies\nwillingness to benefit him in body and estate by every means; but it\nis also incompatible with unconcern or apathy as to his spiritual and\nmoral welfare. Love is communicative, and will not withhold its best\ntreasure. Hence compassion prompts missionary activity, and zeal for\nmoral and social reforms. Nor has 'humanity' ceased to be a restraint\nby becoming a motive. Christian justice contains the principle of\n'_innocentia_' as well as of '_benevolentia_.' 'Love worketh no ill to\nhis neighbour;' it can inflict no wrong, it can withhold no good;\n'therefore love is the fulfilling of the Law[548].'\n\nActive morality has many departments. Duty to the 'powers that\nbe'--the order of society, human law, the state, the Church: all this,\ninto which the science of politics inquires, forms part of the\nobligation involved in love to man. How comprehensive is the reply of\nan early Apologist to the charge of disloyalty, 'we behave towards\nEmperors exactly as we do towards our neighbours. To wish, or to do,\nor to think evil is equally forbidden to us in any case[549].' 'Thou,'\ncries S.\u00a0Augustine, apostrophizing the Church,--'Thou bringest within\nthe bond of mutual love every relationship of kindred, every alliance\nof affinity; Thou unitest citizen to citizen, nation to nation, man to\nman, not only in society, but in fraternity. Thou teachest kings to\nseek the welfare of their peoples, and peoples to be subject to\nkings.... Thou shewest how to all love is due, and injury to\nnone[550]!'\n\nIII. In the life of active beneficence, self-sacrifice is no\n'occasional heroism,' but an 'habitual mood[551].' And yet from the\nvery nature of Christian love it follows that there is a right\nself-regard, a zeal for God's kingdom in the soul, a desire for the\nhighest welfare of the personality as an object of worth in itself,\nand destined to find its perfection in God.\n\nLove to self becomes _Temperance_, that is, the spirit of purifying\ndiscipline. Thus, a mark of Christian character is the passion for\nholiness: i.e. the desire to combine inward purity of thought, desire,\nand motive, with the external fulfilment of duty.\n\nThis process of self-purification is both mental and moral. It\nincludes the culture of imagination not less than the control of\nappetite; 'sobriety' not less in judgment and reflection than in the\nindulgence of desire; humility in self-estimate, not less than\nrestraint of passion[552]. The dominant feature of Christian character\nin this connection is a peculiar self-severity, a deep sense of the\nideal as something not yet attained, a strict fidelity to known truth\nand the claim of moral law, sensitiveness to moral evil, and\nwatchfulness against even its distant approach; in a word, disciplined\nrule in the affections, intellect, and will. For as the Hellenist sage\nsays of Wisdom, 'The very true beginning of Her is the desire of\ndiscipline, and the beginning of discipline is love[553].' Temperance\nincludes that reverent care of the body which receives so high a\nsanction in the New Testament; indeed, respect for the sanctity of the\nbody may be viewed as reverence for the presence of God Himself, and\nfor the place of His abode[554].\n\nIV. Finally, in relation to the hindrances which Virtue\nencounters--the stress of circumstance, the pressure of misfortune,\npersecution, loss, temptation, and the like--Love displays itself as\n_Fortitude_, and finds both a passive and active sphere of exercise.\n\nAs a passive virtue fortitude is the 'world-resisting' element in\ncharacter. The hostility of the world to virtue is only one form of\nits hostility to God[555]. Fortitude is thus essentially the same in\nall stages of social development. When the world-principle was\nembodied in a concrete form, and became in the imperial power of Borne\na definite force hostile to the Church[556], fortitude displayed\nitself for the most part as patience under persecution (S.\u00a0Augustine\nin his treatment of this virtue naturally contemplates it under this\naspect); but the precise form of influence to be resisted will\nobviously vary from age to age, while the element of _resistance_ in\nChristian character remains constant.\n\nThe name of 'fortitude,' however, must not be restricted to passive\nendurance, prominent as this virtue is in Christ's teaching. Fortitude\nembraces spheres of action, and will display itself on occasion as\n_resentment_. Righteous anger has its source in the temper exactly\nopposed to Stoic apathy respecting sin--that 'loveless view' of\nmankind which said 'Trouble not thyself; thy neighbour sins, but he\nsins for himself[557].' There can be no true love of good without a\njust abhorrence of evil. Hence it sometimes occurs that love takes the\nform of indignation and holy zeal--when directed, for example, against\noppression, cruelty, ingratitude, deceit, selfishness. Such resentment\nis a natural and generous emotion, born of sympathy with God Himself.\nComparing with the Christian conception of resentment Aristotle's\ndiscussion of anger, we find that Christian teachers lay stress on the\n_social end_ of resentment. What the good Christian resents is not a\npersonal hurt, but injury and wrong-doing viewed as injurious to his\nneighbour or the community; such resentment is distinguished by purity\nof motive; in certain circumstances it is not unwilling to inflict\npain.\n\n_Moral courage_, again, is the form which fortitude assumes under\nother circumstances, too numerous to be specified. Generally it is\ndisplayed on occasions when the Christian is bearing witness to the\ncause of truth or righteousness before men. No Christian can rid\nhimself of his share in the function of _witness_, committed to His\nfollowers by Christ. And fortitude, or manliness, is the virtue of a\nwitness--of the solitary champion of a good cause confronting\nopposition in any of its forms. The name 'athlete,' which we find\napplied to martyrs in early times, may remind us that the task which\nbeyond others must needs test a man's power to endure, and to stand\nalone, is that of witnessing stedfastly for righteousness and truth.\nYet the call to bear witness comes in ways unexpected, and difficult\nto define or classify: it may, for example, be a man's difficult duty\nto withstand not opponents, but adherents and friends; to hold his own\nnot against 'the sneers and opposition of the bad, but the opinion and\nauthority of the good[558].' With this passing remark we quit the\nsubject.\n\nIn the above sketch of Christian character we have confined ourselves\nto some salient features. We have said nothing of the gracious union\nit presents of delicacy with strength, of communicativeness with\nreserve, of energy with restfulness, of passion with tenderness. It is\ndifficult to delineate character without giving a look of formality to\nwhat is essentially a mysterious, albeit well-marked, product. In\nChristian goodness we see the handiwork of the Spirit of God, and\nwhere He is, there is liberty.\n\nIt is indeed objected that this type of character is too rare, too\nexalted for the majority of mankind. It is said that a standard of\nperfection is set before them which it is hopeless to think of\nattaining; that men are disheartened; that Christian teachers 'ask for\nthe impossible,' and undermine belief in the possibility of virtue. It\nis further suggested that the rarity of the type proves that the saint\n'is born, not made;' and that radical change of character and\ndisposition is impossible[559].\n\nThe last point may be noticed in another connection. At present we may\nsuggest, in reply to these reflections, one consideration. The\nobjector forgets that Christianity does not merely present a moral\nstandard to men; it provides them with an entire system of moral\neducation. The Church recognises different degrees of maturity and\nattainment in her children. It is no part of her method, though\npossibly an accident of a particular age or set of conditions, that\nshe sets strong meat before babes, and appeals to children as if they\nwere grown men. That very 'individual treatment' of characters on\nwhich the writer of the _Service of Man_ insists, is a fundamental\nprinciple of the Christian system[560].\n\n\nIV. _Christ the Source of the Recreation of Character._\n\nThe subject which we now approach is, taken as a whole, peculiar to\nChristian Ethics. For it will be admitted that Christianity alone\noffers a solution of the practical problem, how is the ideal of virtue\nto be translated into life and practice? 'It is the essential\nweakness,' says a living writer, 'of all mere systems of morality, and\nof most, if not all, other religions, that they confine themselves to\npointing out what the facts of life ought to be, and make no provision\nwhatever for dealing with facts as they are.... It is their main\ndefect, not that they conflict with Christianity, but that they fail\nto touch the problem with which it most directly deals[561].' Of\ncourse, in advancing this claim for Christianity, we imply that it is\nsomething vastly greater than a system of morals. It is a Divine way\nof salvation, that is, of deliverance from sin, as well as from its\neffects; the process by which the ideal becomes actual in life and\ncharacter is also, as we have seen, a process of restoration.\nChristianity, in fact, professes to be a Divinely-provided remedy for\ndisorder and disease; strictly speaking, therefore, a treatise on\nethics must investigate the pathology of sin, regarded as the\nviolation of moral order, and the fatal misdirection of desire. This\naspect of the Gospel has been too much disregarded, even by Christian\nthinkers[562]. It follows, however, from the Scriptural account of man\nthat he has lost something which can only be supernaturally restored:\nand it is the practical task of ethics to point out the means of\nrenewal, which Divine Wisdom has provided.\n\nThe mysterious facts which lie at the root of the recreative process\nmust be briefly noticed. Christian holiness is the reproduction in the\nindividual of the life of the Incarnate Son of God. That this might be\npossible, there took place that series of events which S.\u00a0John\ndescribes as the glorification of Jesus Christ. The life, perfectly\nwell-pleasing to God, and therefore the supreme standard of holiness,\npasses through the stage of death. The Sacrifice on Calvary removes\nthe barrier raised between the Creator and His creatures by sin. The\nResurrection is, on the one hand, the seal of God's acceptance stamped\nupon His Son's atoning work; on the other, marks the final stage in\nthat process by which Christ's human nature is 'perfected[563].' For\nby the Resurrection that Nature is spiritualized, is released from\nearthly limitations, and becomes available as a recreative force. The\nAscension is the condition of Christ's manifestation as 'a quickening\nSpirit,' as the 'power of God.' By sacramental channels He\ncommunicates to our entire nature His life-giving humanity, as the\nmeans of our recreation after the image of God. Thus the life of the\nIncarnate is extended in the life of the redeemed, and by a natural\nand orderly growth, the character of Christ is reproduced in His\nmembers through the continuous operation of the Spirit, whose office\nit is to 'take of the things of Christ and shew them unto' men. He who\nis outwardly our example thus becomes an inward principle of life.\n\nWe now are in a position to estimate the extent to which Christian\nmorality depends on dogmatic truths. Apart from Jesus Christ there can\nbe no true life. The secret of holiness lies in _a permanent relation\nto a living Christ_. He, by His life and death, 'became unto us\nWisdom, Righteousness, Sanctification, Redemption[564].' The example\nwas not upheld in vain; for Christ placed within our reach the\nspiritual forces by which alone the pattern can be reproduced in human\nlife. 'Sanctification' means the progressive appropriation by man of\nthe life of the Son of God; the formation in him, by successive\nstages, of the very image of Christ. The objective aspect of\nSanctification is clearly presented in the Old Testament; holiness\nthere implies consecration, and is thought of chiefly as an objective\nwork of God. In the New Testament, the idea of holiness passes from\nthe sphere of worship to that of morality. But the Old Testament\nconception is not lost; it is expanded. Holiness, according to the\nChristian view, results not from the efforts of man, but from the\noutflow and operation of a Divine Life. Holiness is spoken of as 'the\nrighteousness of God,' as a 'free gift' imparted to man; and in the\nfirst instance requires receptivity rather than activity on the part\nof the human soul.\n\nThe ethical significance of baptism is thus intelligible. By baptism\nthe individual is brought into vital contact with the Source of the\nnew life, and enters the sphere within which radiate the spiritual\nforces that flow from the glorified humanity of Christ; the germ of _a\nnew personality_ is imparted; the kingdom of God is entered. But in\nthis new birth the work is only begun; for the 'Grace of God that\nbringeth salvation' has an abiding home among men. It is misleading to\nspeak of Grace as 'an unknown factor.' Still more so to assert that\n'Theology has always been celebrating the power of Grace to the\ndepreciation of Ethics[565].' Grace has its fixed channels and\nmethods, its orderly movement and outflow, its certain conditions, its\nappointed places and seasons, its definite, though mysterious, laws of\noperation[566]. Grace is, so to speak, stored and dispensed within the\nmediatorial kingdom which Christ founded in His Church. From an\nethical standpoint the Church of God is before all else _a school of\ncharacter_[567], the Divinely-appointed sphere in which, normally, the\nrecreation of personality proceeds, in which men are sanctified by\nbeing kept in living union and contact with Jesus Christ Himself.\n\nTo enumerate the several 'means of grace' committed to the stewardship\nof the Church is the task of theology, as also to explain the\nconditions of fruitfully using them. On one point only it may be worth\nwhile to make a few remarks.\n\nTo Christianity, as we have seen, each individual personality is an\nend in itself. Each has a right to moral education; each was called\ninto being that it might embody a particular thought of God, that it\nmight fulfil good works prepared specially for _it_, and correspond\nwith its own separate ideal[568]. Hence, true to the spirit of Him who\nwas a Physician of the sick, Christianity offers her Divine remedies\nto the worst and most hardened natures. She believes in her power to\nrenew and transfigure them, to achieve in them a moral miracle. Nobler\nnatures, again, she endeavours to train up to the full stature of\nChrist-like character, sanctifying, consecrating, and elevating the\ninnate capacities of each. Her healing mission extends to all men. She\nknows nothing of the aristocratic temper of ancient ethics, which\nwould confine the very possibility of a moral life to the few. She\nrejoices in the infinite variety of typical forms which character may\nassume. A Christian poet has said--\n\n  There is not on the earth a soul so base\n      But may obtain a place,\n      In covenanted grace;\n  So that his feeble prayer of faith obtains\n      Some loosening of his chains\n  And earnests of the great release, which rise\n  From gift to gift, and reach at length the eternal prize.\n\n  All may save self;--but minds that heavenward tower\n      Aim at a wider power,\n      Gifts on the world to shower.\n  And this is not at once; by fastings gained\n      And trials well sustained;\n  By pureness, righteous deeds, and toils of love,\n  Abidance in the truth, and zeal for God above[569].\n\nNow this idea of individual perfection, so characteristic of\nChristianity, is in the New Testament not dissociated from the idea of\na society, family, or household of God, in which alone the _full_\ndevelopment of Christian character can be achieved. Corporate life,\nwith its network of relationships, its mutual services, its common\nworship, its visible pledges of brotherhood--this is God's great\ninstrument in the edification of character. So far, indeed, as the\nbody is divided or weakened, the pressure it exerts on the individual\nis hindered, and the free play of its forces diminished[570].\n\nIn the Church, then, we have the true school of character, the true\n'home of individuality,' and sphere of spiritual edification. The\nnormal course of spiritual growth is one of widely varied experiences:\nit passes through the stage of repentance with its appropriate works;\nit is schooled by the chastening discipline of common life[571]; it is\nmarked by progressive power of submission to the leadings of grace.\nThis would suggest an interesting line of study, and one suitable for\nethical treatment, but must not now detain us. It is advisable,\nhowever, in this connection not to overlook the subject of Christian\n_ascetics_: a word which has often excited unjust suspicion and\ncontempt, and thereby been robbed of the noble associations which\nrightfully belong to it.\n\nThe name 'ascetics' is suitably applied to those Divinely-sanctioned\nexercises which, by precept and example, Christ commended as aids to\nholiness--Prayer, Almsgiving, and Fasting. Reflection, indeed, shews\nthat these ordinances occupy a conspicuous place in the Gospel,\nbecause they have a natural connection with the three principal\nspheres of Christian duty,--duty towards God, towards man, towards\nself. They are ways in which devotion to God, love to man, discipline\nof self, find each an appropriate expression. Reason and experience\nalike suggest that the Christian character, with its harmonious beauty\nand delicate strength, can only be the product of continuous spiritual\ndiscipline, wise restraint, and regulated effort. A feature,\ntherefore, of Christ's practical teaching is His provision for what\nis, to average human nature, at least a moral necessity. Presenting\nHimself as the supreme example of the freedom which can control and\nuse circumstances for a spiritual end, He lays down the threefold rule\nof Christian ascetics, to guide the wills and affections of those whom\nHe calls to follow His steps.\n\nThe end of discipline is, of course, freedom: that is, the perfect\ndominion of the Spirit in man. Aiming at this liberty the Christian\nlooks on the threefold ordinance of prayer, almsgiving, and fasting as\na help to his development; it is to him no mere arbitrary direction\nimposed by authority, no vexatious restraint on lawful pleasure; but\nan efficacious aid to Christ-like holiness commended by the practice,\nand proved by the experience, of holy men in every age, and expressly\nenjoined by our Lord Himself[572].\n\nIt may surprise us somewhat to find _Prayer_ included among ascetic\nexercises. For prayer is the ordinary activity of the human spirit in\nrelation to God: man's natural expression of self-dedication: his\neffort to embrace God's Will as his choice, God's Law as his rule,\nGod's Perfection as his pattern. Yet because prayer implies\nregularity, discipline, persevering effort; because it has its\ndifferent parts, its proper occasions, and methods; because it is the\nexercise of a distinct faculty; in short, because it is an arduous\nwork, it finds a place among exercises which seem at first sight to be\nof a more formal character.\n\nThis will appear more clearly on consideration of the different parts\nof prayer. Thus prayer is in part to be viewed as humble\nacknowledgment of an ideal unattained, and consequent renewal of\ndesire in that direction. As containing, therefore, an element of\nself-purification, of striving after deeper self-knowledge, prayer\nincludes the practice of self-examination and confession of sin.\nRegarded, again, as an exercise of affection and intellect, prayer\ntakes the form of _contemplation_, and communion with God, as the\nsupreme object of reverence and love. Thus it is evident that prayer\nis a real exercise, well fitted to be an education, of the soul, and\narduous because it implies an intense activity of the entire\npersonality. Even the body has its share in this exercise. It is the\nappointed instrument of man's spiritual self-oblation; and prayer is\nthe acknowledgment not only that God is the 'Father of spirits,' but\nthat the body also 'is for the Lord[573].'\n\n_Almsgiving_ is placed by Christ among known and admitted forms of\ndevotion. Viewed simply as an action, it is an obvious outlet of\nChristian love to man[574]. But almsgiving has another aspect, on\nwhich early writers insist with some fullness. It is a means of grace,\na purifying element in the spiritual life of the agent. It is not\noften, perhaps, that this side of the duty is adequately taught. The\ndanger of 'charity' becoming reckless or ill-directed is real, and may\ncause Christian teachers to be reticent on the subject. Yet this\naspect of the truth must not be suppressed. And after all, almsgiving\nseems to be specially mentioned by our Lord as a type of all works of\nmercy[575]. Love, in its effort to imitate God, need not be less\ndiscriminating than communicative. The Fatherly providence of God is\nin fact the Christian's inspiration and his model: and we interpret\nthe scope of our Lord's commandment by study of _His_ life who 'for\nour sakes, though rich, became poor,' and 'went about doing good,' and\nwho taught us in one pregnant sentence the mysterious efficacy of\nalmsgiving[576]. It need not be added that true Christian charity is\never controlled by a due sense of the dignity of human nature, and of\nthe moral bond that unites giver and receiver.\n\nEach of the three exercises under consideration is conditioned and\naided by the other two. There is a specially close connection,\nhowever, between prayer and _fasting_. As a means of self-discipline,\nfasting has been strangely neglected. Some regard it as a burdensome\nrestraint on the will; others as 'unsuited to a spiritual religion;'\nothers as unduly interfering with Christian liberty. Chiefly, perhaps,\nthe neglect of fasting is due to inexperience of its value as a\ncondition of spiritual power, and forgetfulness of the place assigned\nto it in the teaching of our Lord and of the early Church. It is thus\nright to insist, first, on its claim to be a Divine ordinance[577].\nThere can be nothing superfluous or incongruous in a practice which\nChrist is so careful to regulate, and which He commends by His own\nexample. But the practice of fasting justifies itself as a point of\nsimple wisdom in the care of the personal life. Christian holiness\nrequires, as we have seen, an inward unity of the personality, in\nwhich no one element has undue predominance. Bodily instincts and\npassions, the powers of thought and imagination, the bias of\ntemperament--all have to be brought into subjection to the controlling\nwill. And the result is a character exhibiting a due balance of\ndifferent elements: a chastened spirit of dependence, spiritualized\naffections, subdued thoughts, sober judgment, a purified heart, a\nsensitive conscience, a just fear of unbridled appetite, a true\nsimplicity. Such is Christ-like holiness; and one great condition of\nits attainment is fasting, chiefly in its literal sense of regular\nabstinence from food[578], though its forms may be as varied as are\nthe avenues of sense-impressions. The motive of fasting may not be\nalways the same: sometimes it is the expression of penitential sorrow\nfor sin, or of the passion for inward purity; sometimes it is used as\na special aid to prayer; sometimes, again, it is the sign of wearisome\nconflict with the lower nature; in any case it should be an exercise\nof love. Thus we regard fasting, not as mere soulless, joyless\nabstinence; but as a needful condition of purity, energy, vigour of\nwill, clearness of moral insight, and capacity to impart spiritual\ngifts to our fellow-men. 'Wise souls,' says S.\u00a0Leo, 'mortify their\nbodies and crucify their senses; and therein set before themselves\nGod's will, loving themselves the more, in proportion as for the love\nof God they love not themselves[579].'\n\nOur apology for touching on topics so homely might well be that the\npractical aim of ethics gives such points importance. There can be no\nexcuse needed, however, in days of wide-spread luxury, and of much\nneedlessly imperfect Christianity, for recalling and re-asserting the\nnecessity of the discipline, as well as of the moral precepts, of the\nSermon on the Mount.\n\n\nV. _Christ's teaching as to the Consummation of God's Kingdom._\n\nAn outline of Christian Ethics would be incomplete without some\nreference to those eschatological truths which occupy so large a place\nin theology, and have so direct a bearing on morals. We have already\ntouched on them in connection with the Christian doctrine of the Chief\nGood. It remains to consider them in relation to the perfection of\nman's nature.\n\nThe word 'perfection' reminds us that there is a goal of the moral\nprocess exhibited in history. The visible order of the universe and\nthe history of mankind are verging towards a consummation, a\ncatastrophe, which relatively to us must be regarded as an end.\n\nIt is no part of our task to discuss the intermediate stage through\nwhich the kingdom of God is destined to pass: that stage in which\nthere is to be a supreme manifestation of moral evil, a culmination of\nthose tendencies and an outburst of those forces which already seem to\nthreaten not the framework merely, but the foundations of society. The\ndecay of Christian Churches, the profound corruption of social life,\nthe tyranny of materialistic lawlessness--these seem to be plainly\nforetold in Scripture, and with a purpose: that of shielding men from\na moral despair which might paralyse their efforts, or undermine their\npatience, as they witness the beginnings of these 'birth-pangs[580]'\nof a new order. The Christian will ever guard against such a temper of\nalienation, or self-isolation, from the world, as will lead him to\ndepreciate the national, political, or civil movements of his time.\nFor civilization is appointed to reach, through whatever convulsions,\nan ethical consummation, the prospect of which must inspire strength\nto labour, and patience to endure.\n\nThe last stage of the kingdom of God is one of glory, to be exhibited\nin the perfection of the moral community. It is for this that creation\nwaits: to this, as the goal of history, that inspired prophecy points.\nTwo revealed truths are intended to guide our conception of this\nprospect.\n\nIn the first place, the kingdom of God is to be finally _manifested_\nin its true character[581]: an event which must involve momentous\nconsequences for the physical creation. Scripture sometimes speaks as\nif beneath the outer semblance of visible nature there lay concealed\nan inner glory, destined, when the semblance passes, to shine forth in\nfull radiance and splendour[582]. The truth is thus symbolically\nconveyed that since man is the crown and lord of the physical\nuniverse, his final emancipation will carry with it a corresponding\nchange in his outward environment. But this consummation, no less than\nthe progressive movement of mankind towards it, is due to the\ndeliberate working and intervention in history of God Himself.\nNaturalism points to a precarious prospect of human happiness in the\nfuture, as contingent upon 'a perfect adjustment of society[583].'\nChristianity does not look to any improvement in material conditions,\nnor to any social process, as likely to bring about an ideal state of\nhumanity. Neither the physical universe, nor man himself, can attain\nto the goal of their development, or to the perfection of their\nnature, apart from God[584].\n\nAgain, the kingdom of God is to be purified through _judgment_. The\nexact nature of this judgment it is impossible for thought to\nanticipate. But the teaching of revelation is at least so explicit as\nto discredit any conception of the judgment which would confine its\noperation to this present scene, or restrict its meaning to any merely\nnatural process. The judgment is, in fact, appointed for a definite\nhour, and is prefigured in definite historical catastrophes. It will\nbe parallel to, but transcending, those manifestations of Divine power\nin history which mankind has already experienced. And the effect of\nthis final intervention will be to put an end to that mixed condition\nof human things which it is our tendency to accept and assume as\ninevitable and perpetual. Out of God's kingdom will be gathered 'all\nthings that offend;' and the collective mass of humanity will be, with\nwhatever gradations in the stage of perfection attained by each\nindividual, a 'congregation of saints[585].' The principle of Good\nwill so achieve its final triumph.\n\nWhen we further inquire, as we are impelled to do, what will be the\nextent of this final triumph, we are met by the fact of our own\nignorance, and of Christ's reserve. His simple, severe statements seem\nintended to discourage fruitless speculation. We are thrown back in\nthis as in other perplexities, on our unfailing assurance of God's\ncharacter, and on the faint analogies furnished by the present order\nof things.\n\nThe Gospel speaks of a righteous dominion, the sphere of which is to\nbe without limit. We read of a gathering into the kingdom of all that\nis in true harmony with its purpose. We find warrant for the belief in\nan intermediate state in which imperfect character may be developed,\nignorance enlightened, sin chastened, desire purified. And yet we are\nassured that the consequences of action and choice abide, and are\neternal in their issue; and we know that impenitence must finally, and\nunder awful conditions, separate the soul from God. But we have not\nenough for a coherent system. All that we can affirm is that the\nvictory of Good seems to demand the preservation of all that has not\nwilfully set itself in antagonism to Divine Love, Holiness, and Power.\nWe cannot think that helpless ignorance, or inevitable poverty of\ncharacter will finally sever a human soul from God. Analogy suggests\nthat there will be scope in a future dispensation for the healing\nministries, and inventive service of Love. So again, Scripture does\nnot expressly teach that the lost will for ever be in a state of\ndefiance and rebellion. Even in the awful state of final severance\nfrom the Divine presence there is room for assent, order, acceptance\nof penalty; and so far, _evil_, in the sense of the will antagonistic\nto God's righteous Law--may have ceased to exist. Truth will have\nprevailed; and all orders of intelligent creatures will render it\nhomage. The final issue will be seen, and the justice confessed, of\nall those 'ways' of God which are 'unsearchable and past finding out.'\nIn a word, there will be a complete manifestation of supreme Holiness\nand Love: of Him, whose 'mercy is over all His works,' and who will\ncontinue to stand in direct relation to every soul that He has made,\nrevealing Himself to each either as loving Father or as righteous\nJudge[586].\n\nIt must however be added that what is called 'Universalism' finds no\nsupport either in the solemn statements of Jesus Christ, or in the\nanalogy of nature. Man's very power of choice implies the possibility\nof a sinful state admitting neither of repentance nor of remedy; not\nof repentance--for character, growing by separate acts of choice, may\nbecome fixed and hardened in its persistent refusal of the good; not\nof remedy--for, as even the Greek moralist, with all his belief in the\nmoulding power of law, confesses, there is a degree of moral\nperversion 'incurable'--that namely which ensues when sin has finally\ndestroyed the faculties to which moral appeal is possible--desire,\nfear, hope, affection, the sense of shame.\n\nWith the end of history corresponds that of the individual man. The\nultimate perfection of human character is not only regarded as\npossible in Scripture--but is suggested by analogy[587]: and of the\nconditions of perfected human nature, we are enabled to form some idea\npartly by our knowledge of angelic beings, partly by a study of our\nLord's Humanity in its risen state[588].\n\ni. Thus human personality, in its perfected form, implies a state of\n_harmony_. As each element in human nature will be preserved in its\nappropriate condition, so each will fulfil its rightful function[589].\nThe relation between body and spirit will be that which is ethically\nthe highest conceivable. In man will be represented, as in a\nmicrocosm, a state of being in which the first creation has been\nappropriated by, and made the organ of the Divine Spirit[590]. The\nmaterial body will become one perfectly subservient to, and expressive\nof, the free movements of a purified spirit[591]. And to this state of\npersonality will belong a final harmony between moral law and freedom.\nHuman beings will have become 'partakers of the Divine Nature,' so far\nas to experience in themselves the union of liberty, holiness, and\nlove:\n\n  Indulging every instinct of the soul\n  There where law, life, joy, impulse, are one thing[592].\n\nii. Perfection further implies a state of _glory_; a word which,\nwhether used of Christ Himself or of His followers, seems in the New\nTestament to mean the outward manifestation of a holy character. The\ngradual assimilation to God, which is the law of true human\ndevelopment on earth, is the law of an unending progress. But in the\nperfect state, character will find due splendour of outward\nexpression. Man's bodily frame will pass through successive stages\n'from glory to glory,' to a semblance faithfully reflecting the inward\nsupernatural life[593]. And in the marvellous union of outward with\ninward recreation consists the 'glory,' of which human nature is\ncapable.\n\niii. Perfection is consummated by blessedness. The conception of\n_bliss_ as transcending _happiness_ (\u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b1) is peculiar to\nChristian Ethics. Happiness is a word of earth, and represents a good\nwhich may be attained independently of life in God. Bliss is\ninseparable from a living relation to God. It implies union with God.\n\nBut though it is true that 'man possesses the plenitude of his\nperfection in God,' the analogy of the present dispensation points to\na further element in 'blessedness,' namely, that of fellowship in a\nmoral community: the redeemed 'have fellowship one with another,' in\nan 'indissoluble life[594].' In fact the perfection of the individual,\naccording to God's separate ideal for each, demands that of the moral\ncommunity. Blessedness thus means that state wherein, by a society of\nrenewed personal beings, 'the Highest Good is loved and enjoyed[595].'\n\nThis community of free and perfected beings, with God as its Centre,\nis the revealed ethical consummation of our race. And as the\nmanifestation of God's kingdom is to Christians the supreme object of\naspiration, and the highest matter of prayer, so the effort to advance\nand extend its sphere is the worthiest task that can be embraced by\nthe will. The conception of such a kingdom, to be made actual through\nthe exertion of human faculties co-operating with the invincible\nenergy of the Divine will, is the greatest thought that ever enriched\nmankind. In the attempt to further the limits, or promote the welfare\nof this kingdom, man finds his truest happiness, and his noblest field\nof activity. For he is engaged in the same work as God Himself[596]:\nhe has the same interest in its accomplishment. He has found the\nabsolutely good sphere of effort and desire; all else in which men\nbusy themselves can only be ethically _good_ in proportion as it bears\non, or hastens the approach of, that 'one far off Divine event.'\n\n\nVI. _Conclusion._\n\nIt is our Lord's method to present to men an ideal, before He descends\nto the requirements of practical life. The Sermon on the Mount\ndescribes the life of 'blessedness' before it treats of duty; and from\nduty, passes to the means of holiness. Such an example suggests one or\ntwo concluding reflections.\n\nFirst we may recall the true bearing of a methodical inquiry into\nChristian Ethics. The kingdom of God stands in contrast with, but in\nspecial relation to, all modes and products of social activity. It\nmakes use of all the material which human life offers, or human\nfaculties supply, so far as it is capable of serving a Divine purpose,\nor revealing any aspect of the Divine Life. For that Life having once\nfor all intervened in history, continues ever to appropriate and\nhallow all that comes within the wide range of Its outflow; Education,\nCriticism, Science, Art; Industry, Wealth; Law, Polity--all these are\ncapable of becoming ethical forces, of ministering to man's true end,\nof contributing something to the highest life. Into the Holy City the\nkings of the earth bring their glory and honour: and to a Christian\nChurch are addressed the far-reaching words, 'All things are\nyours[597].'\n\nThere is in fact a 'world-appropriating' element in Christianity, as\nthe ethical religion; and it is essential that the significance of\nthis fact should be grasped, if Christian morality is to be rightly\napprehended, or fairly presented in systematic form.\n\nFurther, in advancing a claim to mould and regenerate human society,\nthe Christian Church can only continue to rely on her traditional\ninstrument,--the recreation of individual character. The social\nmovements which an enlightened Christian judgment approves, are those\ngradual and irresistible changes which result from the slowly-reached\napprehension of some neglected moral truth, as it gradually commends\nitself to individual consciences. And such movements are to be judged\nas they display, or bear upon character. If for example a Christian\nmistrusts the extravagant schemes of some forms of Socialism,--it is\nnot because he is insensible to the wrongs and miseries which suggest\na violent remedy, but because all such sweeping proposals would merge\nthe individual life, would repress and mar the fulness of that\norganized social life which gains elements of richness and diversity\nfrom the free play of individuality.\n\nThe study of ideals will also have suggested the relation which the\nChurch bears to modern life. The Church, we have seen, is the school\nof human character; the nurse, therefore, of such civil and social\nvirtues as give stability to human institutions. In her midst, Divine\nforces are really and manifestly at work, tending to bring about the\nregeneration of mankind. And in connection with this view of the\nChurch, we need to observe the power of character; the practical\n'supremacy of goodness,' or at least its tendency to be supreme; its\ncapacity to control and modify the pressure of circumstance. A\ncondition of all true thinking about the social future will surely be\na just estimate of _character_ as a social and industrial force; it is\na growing sense of this truth that is doing much to revolutionize our\neconomic theories. We are learning perhaps that manfulness, mercy,\nself-control, pity are among the forces which must be taken into\naccount by social science.\n\nAnd if the Church is a gift of God to mankind, and there be but one\nend of all His gifts, namely, the restoration of His image in man, we\nmust believe that the fairest fruits of Christianity, and the\nmany-sided fulness of Christlike character, can appear only in those\nwho live loyal to the moral discipline of the Church, who are ruled by\nher wisdom, chastened by awe of her beauty, penetrated by her spirit.\nThe kingdom of God is more--infinitely more--than an ideal condition\nof human society; but we know that the kingdom, even in this limited\nsense of the word, will be the heritage only of a nation 'bringing\nforth the fruits thereof.'\n\n[456] 1 S.\u00a0Pet. i.\u00a021 \u1f65\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c0\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd \u1f51\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f10\u03bb\u03c0\u03af\u03b4\u03b1 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03bd.\n\n[457] Heb. i.\u00a01.\n\n[458] See Dorner, _Syst. of Christian Ethics_, \u00a7 35.\n\n[459] Eph. i.\u00a04.\n\n[460] Cp. Plato, _Tim._ xxix. E.\n\n[461] Athan. _de Incarn._ x.\n\n[462] Clem. Alex. _Quis Dives_, etc. vii. \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u1f74 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03c1\u03b7\u03c0\u1f76\u03c2 \u03b6\u03c9\u1fc6, \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03bc\u03b7\n\u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u1fe6, \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f44\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f44\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 ... \u1f21 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u1f04\u03b3\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1 \u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03cc\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd, \u1f21 \u03b4\u1f72\n\u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03b5\u03af\u03c9\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f00\u03b3\u03ac\u03c0\u03b7 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f10\u03be\u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03af\u03c9\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2,\n\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b7 \u03b6\u03c9\u03ae.\n\n[463] Aug. _de moribus Eccl._ xii.\n\n[464] Athan. _cont. Gentes_, iii. describes the aversion of man from\nGod as beginning in 'self-contemplation' (\u1f11\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u1f24\u03c1\u03be\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf).\n\n[465] Ath. _c. Gent._ ii.\n\n[466] Wace, _Boyle Lectures_, ser. 1, Lect. vii. Cp. Col. i.\u00a028.\n\n[467] 2 Cor. v.\u00a04, 5 \u1f41 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1\u03c3\u03ac\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2.\n\n[468] Lactant. _Div. Inst._ iii.\u00a012, 'Haec vita praesens et corporalis\nbeata esse non potest, quia malis est subjecta per corpus.... Si cadit\n_beatitudo_, ergo et _immortalitas_ cadit in hominem, quae beata est.'\n\n[469] Eph. v.\u00a01. Ep. _ad Diog._ x.\n\n[470] Bp. Butler's sermons emphasize this side of the doctrine of\nconscience, esp. the _Preface_. Cp. Flint, _Theism_, lect. vii.\n\n[471] See Phil. i.\u00a09, and Heb. v.\u00a014 (the Greek).\n\n[472] Rom. i.\u00a021. Athan. _cont. Gentes_, iii-xi.\n\n[473] Wace, _Boyle Lect._, ser. 1, Lect. II.\n\n[474] Anselm, _Cur Deus Homo_, I. xii. 'Libertas non est nisi ad hoc\nquod expedit aut quod decet.'\n\n[475] See Martineau, _Types of Eth. Theory_, vol. i.\u00a093; ii.\u00a039 [Ed.\n2]. Holland, _Creed and Character_, Serm. X.\n\n[476] Aug. _de mor. Eccl._ xxi. '[Deo] solo dominante liberrimus.'\nObserve that as freedom grows, the choice becomes more restricted by\nthe law \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u1f14\u03be\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u1fbd \u03bf\u1f50 \u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03c6\u03ad\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9 (1\u00a0Cor. x.\u00a023). Cp.\nPet. Lomb. _Sent._ ii. xxv.\u00a07.\n\n[477] Cyp. _de op. et eleem._ i. 'Pater Filium misit ut _reparare_ nos\nposset.' Such language is usual with the Fathers.\n\n[478] The whole subject of sin, guilt, punishment is germane to our\nsubject, but for present purposes must be left on one side.\n\n[479] Iren. iii.\u00a018. 7 [Stieren] \u1f14\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03c3\u03af\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u1fe0 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03ce\u03c0\u03c9\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f30\u03b4\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f11\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03cc\u03c4\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u1f41\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bc\u03c6\u03bf\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03b1\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd1\u03bd, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff7 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd\n\u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c9, \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03ce\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03bd.\n\n[480] Heb. iii.\u00a01. Cyp. _de idol. van._ xi. 'Quod homo est, esse\nChristus voluit, ut et homo possit esse quod Christus est.'\n\n[481] Bern, _de consid._ v.\u00a01, 'Quid quod et inferioribus eges?...\nNonne praeposterum hoc et indignum? Plane superiorum quaedam injuria\nest inferiorum operam desiderare: a qua injuria nemo hominum perfecte\nvindicabitur nisi cum quisque evaserit in libertatem filiorum Dei.'\n\n[482] S.\u00a0Matt. vi.\u00a033.\n\n[483] S.\u00a0Luke xvii.\u00a021; S.\u00a0Matt. xiii.\u00a045 foll. (Parable of the\nPearl). Cp. Rom. xiv.\u00a017 \u1f21 \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u1fe6 ... \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd ... \u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u03b7\n\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c1\u03ae\u03bd\u03b7 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u1f70 \u1f10\u03bd \u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u03cd\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9 \u1f01\u03b3\u03af\u1ff3.\n\n[484] Wace, _ubi sup._ Lect. VIII. Ambr. _de off. min._ ii.\u00a03, 4.\n\n[485] Aug. _de mor. Eccl._ xiii. 'Bonorum summa Deus nobis est; Deus\nest nobis summum bonum.' _Ib._ xviii. 'Secutio Dei, beatitatis\nappetitus est; consecutio, ipsa beatitas.'\n\n[486] Thom. Aquin. _Summa_, i. ii\u1d43\u1d49. Qu. i. 2, 'Illa quae rationem\nhabent seipsa movent ad finem, quia habent dominium suorum actuum per\nliberum arbitrium.... Illa vero quae ratione carent tendunt in finem\npropter naturalem inclinationem quasi ab alio mota, non autem a\nseipsis, cum non cognoscant rationem finis; et ideo nihil in finem\nordinare possunt, sed solum in finem ab alio ordinantur.'\n\n[487] See Godet, _Comm. on 1\u00a0Corinthians_ [Clark], vol. i. p. 236.\n\n[488] S.\u00a0Matt. xix.\u00a028; S.\u00a0Luke xxii. 30.\n\n[489] S.\u00a0John iii.\u00a016.\n\n[490] S.\u00a0John iii.\u00a033. See Dorner's _System of Ethics_ [Clark], \u00a7 47.\n\n[491] 2 Cor. iv.\u00a08; vi.\u00a010. Cp. Rom. viii.\u00a028.\n\n[492] S.\u00a0Matt. v.\u00a048. Butler, _Serm._ 3 'Your obligation to obey this\nLaw is its being the Law of your nature.... The correspondence of\nactions to the nature of the agent renders them natural.'\n\n[493] Cp. Bp. Ellicott, _The Being of God_, p. 120.\n\n[494] Rom. ii.\u00a018 (\u03b3\u03b9\u03bd\u03ce\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03ad\u03bb\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1) implies that when a man knows\nGod's _will_, he knows his _duty_.\n\n[495] S.\u00a0John ix.\u00a04; iv.\u00a034. Cp. vi.\u00a040; S.\u00a0Luke iv.\u00a043. See also Rom.\nxii.\u00a02; Eph. v.\u00a017, etc.\n\n[496] The case of the young man (S.\u00a0Matt. xix.\u00a021) shews how\nobligation is extended by contact with Christ, i.e. by closer relation\nto God. The general principle is that each is bound to follow the law\nof his personal perfection as it unveils itself to him. See Bengel _in\nloc._ and cp. S.\u00a0Luke xvii.\u00a010.\n\n[497] Wace, Lect. II.\n\n[498] S.\u00a0Matt. xvi.\u00a025, 26. The discussion of 'Christian\nconsolations,' by Mr. Cotter Morison, _Service of Man_, overlooks the\nfact that Christ's object was not to 'console' men, but to set before\nthem the truth, and the law of their own perfection. The\n'consolations' of Christianity can be won only if they are never made\nthe _object_ of life. They are a _reward_, but never, in the higher\nforms of Christian consciousness, an _aim_. See _Church Quart. Rev._,\nJan. 1888, p. 268.\n\n[499] Witness the discussions on _fear_ commonly found in mediaeval\ntheology. Bruce, _Parabolic teaching of Christ_, p. 359 foll., has\nsome good remarks on this point. 'The parabolic form of instruction\ndoes not afford scope for the play of the highest class of motives. It\nis essentially popular wisdom, and it is the way of that which aims at\nteaching the million, _to make action spring from homely motives_.'\n\n[500] Butler, _Analogy_, i.\u00a05.\n\n[501] See H. S.\u00a0Holland, _Creed and Character_, Serm. XVIII. Cp.\nS.\u00a0Matt. xxv.\u00a021, Heb. xii.\u00a02. Thom. Aquin. _Summa_, ii. ii\u1d43\u1d49, xxviii.\n\n[502] Sidgwick, _Outlines of the Hist. of Ethics_, chap. 3.\n\n[503] Iren. iv.\u00a016, \u00a7 3 [Stieren]. God appears in the decalogue\n'praestruens hominem in suam amicitiam ... et ideo [verba] similiter\npermanent apud nos, extensionem et augmentum sed non dissolutionem\naccipientia per carnalem Eius adventum.' Thom. Aquin. _Summa_, i. ii\u1d43\u1d49.\nQu. c. Art. 3, 'Omnia praecepta [moralia] legis sunt quaedam partes\npraeceptorum decalogi.'\n\n[504] Rom. vii.\u00a014.\n\n[505] S.\u00a0Matt. xxii.\u00a037. Cp. Aug. _de mor. Eccl._ xviii-xx; _de doc.\nChrist._ i.\u00a029.\n\n[506] Aug. l.c. 'Maxime Ei propinquat [homo] subjectione ista qua\nsimilis fit.'\n\n[507] Thom. Aquin. _Summa_, i. ii\u1d43\u1d49. c.\u00a05, 'Principi communitatis tria\ndebet homo, fidelitatem, reverentiam, famulatum.' Cp. Butler,\n_Analogy_, pt. ii.\u00a01.\n\n[508] Aug. _de disc. Christ._ iii. 'Proximus est omni homini omnis\nhomo,' etc.\n\n[509] R. W. Dale, _The Ten Commandments_, p. 241. Cp. Thom. Aquin.\n_Summa_, i. ii\u1d43\u1d49. c.\u00a06; Martineau, _Types_, etc., ii. 26.\n\n[510] _Summa_, i. ii\u1d43\u1d49. c.\u00a05, 'Dilectio sui ipsius includitur in\ndilectione Dei et proximi; in hoc enim homo vere se diligit quod se\nordinat in Deum.' _Ib._ ii. ii\u1d43\u1d49. xix.\u00a06, 'Homo se propter Deum, et in\nDeo diligit.' Aug. _Serm._, ccxvi.\u00a08, 'Amate quod eritis: eritis enim\nfilii Dei.' Pascal, _Pens\u00e9es_, Art. xviii.\u00a015, 'Que l'homme _s'aime_,\ncar il a en lui une nature capable de bien.' Cp. Butler, _Serm._ i.\netc.\n\n[511] Sidgwick, _Outlines etc._, p. 108. Cp. Dorner, _System, etc._,\np. 459 [Clark].\n\n[512] Aug. _de Civ. Dei_, xiv.\u00a028.\n\n[513] See Ex. xxi.\u00a033 foll.; Deut. xxii.\u00a09 foll.; Levit. xix. etc.\n_Summa_, i. ii\u1d43\u1d49. i.\u00a02, 'Tota irrationalis natura comparatur ad Deum\nsicut instrumentum ad agens principale.'\n\n[514] Consider Gen. ix.\u00a010. Cp. Gen. viii.\u00a01; Prov. xii.\u00a010, etc.\n\n[515] Martensen, _Special Ethics (Indiv.)_, p. 278 [Clark].\n\n[516] See Trench, _Mediaeval Church History_, Lect. XXVII. Cp. Plato,\n_Phileb._ 64 E foll.\n\n[517] _Ecce Homo_, c. x. Cp. S.\u00a0John xxi.\u00a025.\n\n[518] It is significant that Mr. Cotter Morison in his _Service of\nMan_ discusses personal types of Christian saintliness.\n\n[519] Dorner, _System, etc._, p. 377.\n\n[520] See some remarks on this tendency in Liddon, _Bampton Lectures_,\nviii; and an Art. in the _Church Quart. Rev._, July, 1883, on 'Our\nLord's Human Example.' For what follows, cp. Martensen, _Ethics\n(General)_, pp. 242, 256.\n\n[521] Dean Church, Serm. on _Christ's Example_ [_Gifts of\nCivilization_, Serm. III].\n\n[522] R. H. Hutton, Essay on _the Incarnation and Principles of\nEvidence_. Cp. the remarkable definition of Lactantius, _Div. Inst._\niii.\u00a09, 'Pietas nihil aliud est quam _Dei parentis agnitio_.' _Ib._\n10, 'Efficitur ut is agnoscat Deum, qui unde ortus sit, quasi\nrecordetur.'\n\n[523] See Trench, _Syn. of the N.T._ \u00a7 42 (on \u03c4\u03b1\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3). 'In His\nHuman Nature [Christ] must be the pattern of all humility, of all\ncreaturely _dependence_.... He evermore, as Man, took the place which\nbeseemed the creature in the presence of its Creator.'\n\n[524] S.\u00a0John xvi.\u00a032.\n\n[525] Martensen, _Ethics (General)_, p. 255. Cp. Job v.\u00a023.\n\n[526] Christ's earthly life and work are described summarily as\n\u1f51\u03c0\u03b1\u03ba\u03cc\u03b7, Rom. v.\u00a019. Cp. Phil. ii.\u00a08.\n\n[527] Aug. _de Praed. Sanct._ xxx. 'An ... in Illo non libera voluntas\nerat, ac non tanto magis erat, quanto magis peccare non poterat?'\nQuoted by Liddon, _Bampt. Lect._ [ed. 11], note c.\n\n[528] Aug. _de mor. Eccl._ xxiii. 'Fit ergo per caritatem ut\nconformemur Deo.'\n\n[529] Dorner, pp. 336, 388. Cp. _Ecce Homo_, p. 136.\n\n[530] Arist. _Eth._ vii.\u00a014. 8 remarks that human nature is not simple\n(\u1f01\u03c0\u03bb\u1fc6), adding \u1f10\u03c0\u03b5\u1f76, \u03b5\u1f34 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u1f21 \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f01\u03c0\u03bb\u1fc6 \u03b5\u1f34\u03b7 \u1f00\u03b5\u1f76 \u1f21 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f74 \u03c0\u03c1\u1fb6\u03be\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f21\u03b4\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\n\u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9. \u0394\u03b9\u1f78 \u1f41 \u03b8\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b5\u1f76 \u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f01\u03c0\u03bb\u1fc6\u03bd \u03c7\u03b1\u03af\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f21\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u03ae\u03bd, \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb. Cp. Bk. x.\ncc.\u00a04. \u00a7 9, and 7. \u00a7 8.\n\n[531] _Summa_, i. ii\u1d43\u1d49. Qu. lxii. Art. 1. Cp. S.\u00a0Matt. xix.\u00a017.\n\n[532] Abp. Trench.\n\n[533] Heb. xi.\u00a06. Cp. 1 S.\u00a0John iv.\u00a016; Rom. xiv.\u00a023. _Summa_, i. ii\u1d43\u1d49.\nQu. lxii. art. 3. 'Quantum ad _intellectum_ adduntur homini quaedam\nprincipia supernaturalia, quae divino lumine capiuntur; et haec sunt\ncredibilia de quibus est fides.' _Ib._ art. 4, 'Per fidem apprehendit\nintellectus ea quae sperat et amat. Unde opportet quod ordine\ngenerationis fides praecedat spem et caritatem.'\n\n[534] S.\u00a0John iv.\u00a034; v.\u00a036; xvii.\u00a04. Cp. H. S.\u00a0Holland, _Serm._ on\n'The Energy of Unselfishness.' With regard to the relation of\n_Pleasure_ to action, we may observe that pleasure is inseparable from\nthe right and effective exercise of any faculty; and therefore\n_accompanies_ virtuous activity, but can never be the moral _end_ of\naction. Cp. Arist. _Eth._ vii.\u00a012. \u00a7 3, etc.\n\n[535] See _Ecce Homo_, c. xiii.\n\n[536] Aug. _de mor. Eccl._ xix. 'Id ipsum quo diligimus Deum mori non\npotest, nisi dum non diligit Deum: cum mors ipsa sit non diligere\nDeum.' Cp. Cyp. _de Unit._ xiv.\n\n[537] Such classification, corresponding to three cardinal virtues,\nseems to be implied in S.\u00a0Paul's words, Tit. ii.\u00a012 \u1f35\u03bd\u03b1 ... \u03c3\u03c9\u03c6\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9\u03c2,\n\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b5\u1f50\u03c3\u03b5\u03b2\u1ff6\u03c2 \u03b6\u03ae\u03c3\u03c9\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd.\n\n[538] J. Cotter Morison, _The Service of Man_, p. 194 [ed. 3]. See\nEph. i.\u00a04; Col. i.\u00a022; S.\u00a0Luke i.\u00a075.\n\n[539] Rom. viii.\u00a08; 1\u00a0Cor. vii.\u00a032; 1 Thess. iv.\u00a01. An instructive\ncontrast might be drawn between the Pagan and Christian use of the\nword \u1f00\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03af\u03b1.\n\n[540] _Lacordaire, a biographical sketch_, H. S.\u00a0Lear, p. 34.\n\n[541] Wordsworth, _The Excursion_. Ep. _ad Diog._ v. \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b1 \u03be\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03af\u03c2\n\u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u1f76\u03c2 \u03be\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7. This spirit does not exclude a true\n_patriotism_, and other civil virtues. Martensen, _Ethics (Social)_, \u00a7\n82.\n\n[542] _De mor. Eccl._ xxxvii and xxv. Cp. Bern. _de Consid._ v.\u00a01.\n\n[543] See the chap. with this title in _Ecce Homo_.\n\n[544] S.\u00a0Matt. v.\u00a044 foll. Leo, _Serm. in Quad._ vii. 'Forma\nconversationis fidelium ab exemplo venit operum divinorum et merito\nDeus imitationem Sui ab eis exigit, quos ad imaginem et similitudinem\nsuam fecit.' Cp. Iren. iv.\u00a013. 3.\n\n[545] _Ecce Homo_, c. xxii. Cp. Butler, _Serm._ ix. etc.\n\n[546] Leo, _Serm. in Quad._, passim, esp. v, vi, ix. _Ecce Homo_, c.\nxxiii. For what follows, see Arist. _Eth._ v.\u00a010. Cp. Eph. iv.\u00a032.\n\n[547] Mozley, _Univ. Serm._ ix. 'Ancient philosophy never opened the\nmine of happiness which lay in this principle. It was a discovery,\nlike that of a new scientific principle, when it was made; and\nChristianity made it.'\n\n[548] Rom. xiii.\u00a010. Note the following words of S.\u00a0Aug. (_de doct.\nChrist._ i.\u00a029): 'Velle debemus, ut _omnes nobiscum diligant Deum_, et\ntotum quod vel eos adjuvamus vel adjuvamur eis, ad unum illum finem\nreferendum est.... Hinc efficitur ut inimicos etiam nostros\ndiligamus.... _Misereamur_, quia tanto magis nos oderunt, quanto ab\nillo quem diligimus separati sunt.' Cp. _de disc. Chr._ v. 'Necesse\nest ut quem diligis tanquam te ipsum, _illuc illum trahas ad quod et\ntu amas_.' _Ecce Homo_, cc. xvii, xviii.\n\n[549] Tert. _Apol._ 36.\n\n[550] _De mor. Eccl._ lxiii. [Clark] _Obs._ There are duties imposed\nby our relationship even _to the dead_, _to posterity_, and of course\n_to the impersonal creature_. See Martensen, _Ethics (Indiv.)_, \u00a7\u00a7\n116-118. On duties to _posterity_, see a beautiful passage in Ruskin,\n_Seven Lamps of Architecture_, vi. \u00a7 9.\n\n[551] Dean Church, _Disc. of the Christian Character_, p. 101. Cp.\n_Ecce Homo_ [ed. 13], p. 178.\n\n[552] See Rom. xii.\u00a03; 2 Cor. x.\u00a05.\n\n[553] Wisdom vi.\u00a017.\n\n[554] 1\u00a0Cor. vi.\u00a019.\n\n[555] Ep. _ad Diog._ vi. \u03bc\u03b9\u03c3\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03a7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f41 \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u1f00\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c3\u03c2,\n\u1f45\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f21\u03b4\u03cc\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c4\u03ac\u03c3\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n[556] See Westcott, Essay on _The Church and the World_ [in his ed. of\nS.\u00a0John's Epp.].\n\n[557] Trench, _Syn. of N.T._ \u00a7 xxxvii. On 'Resentment' see _Ecce\nHomo_, c. xxi; Butler, _Serm._ viii. Cp. Arist. _Eth._ iv.\u00a05. See also\nDale. _The Atonement_, Lect. VIII.\n\n[558] Dean Church, _Gifts of Civilization_, p. 323. Cp. Martineau,\n_Types of Eth. Theory_, vol. ii, pp. 200-202.\n\n[559] See _Service of Man_, cc. vii and ix. Those objections have been\noften met. See Dean Church, _Serm._ on 'Christ's Example.' Liddon,\n_Bampt. Lect._ [ed. 11] p. 130.\n\n[560] Aug. _de mor. Eccl._ lxiii. 'Tu [Ecclesia] pueriliter pueros,\nfortiter juvenes, quiete senes prout cuiusque non corporis tantum, sed\net animi aetas est, exerces ac doces etc.' Cp. Amb. _de Off. Min._\ni.\u00a017.\n\n[561] Wace, _Boyle Lect._ (ser. 1) v. Cp. _Ecce Homo_, c. ix. We may\nconsider how Christ gives a _practical_ turn to speculative inquiries.\nS.\u00a0Luke xiii. 23, 24; S.\u00a0John xxi.\u00a021 foll.\n\n[562] E.g. Clem. of Alexandria. See Bigg, _The Christian Platonists of\nAlexandria_, p. 80.\n\n[563] S.\u00a0Luke xiii.\u00a032; Heb. ii.\u00a010, v.\u00a09. Cp. 1\u00a0Cor. xv.\u00a045; and see\nGal. ii.\u00a020, iv.\u00a019. Also an Art. in _Ch. Qu. Rev._ No. xxxii, on 'Our\nLord's Human Example.'\n\n[564] 1\u00a0Cor. i.\u00a030. Cp. Rom. viii.\u00a029. For the thought that follows,\nsee Prof. Bruce on Heb. ii.\u00a011-18 in _Expositor_, No. 50.\n\n[565] _Service of Man_, pp. 84, 85.\n\n[566] Chrys. _in Joh. hom._ x.\u00a02 \u1f04\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f10\u03bd\u03b4\u03b5\u03af\u03be\u03b1\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b2\u03bf\u03cd\u03bb\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f45\u03c4\u03b9\n\u03bf\u1f50\u03c7 \u1f01\u03c0\u03bb\u1ff6\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f54\u03b4\u03b5 \u1f21 \u03c7\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03c3 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03b1\u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03b9,\n\u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb.\n\n[567] See Tit. ii.\u00a011, 12 \u1f21 \u03c7\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03c2 ... \u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u03b5\u03cd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fb6\u03c2 S.\u00a0Matt,\nxxviii.\u00a019, 20. Aug. _de disc. Chr._ i. '_Disciplinae domus_ est\nEcclesia Christi.' Butler, _Analogy_, pt. ii. c.\u00a01.\n\n[568] Consider Col. i.\u00a028; Eph. ii.\u00a010.\n\n[569] _Lyra Apostolica_, No. xxxvii [signed \u03b4].\n\n[570] Consider Phil. ii.\u00a02, where the description of the Christian\nexample and character is prefaced by an impressive appeal for Unity.\nThe moral guilt of _heresy_ partly lies in its being a principle of\ndisunion. Cyp. _de Unit._ xxvi. complains of particular ways in which\ndisunion injures Christian character.\n\n[571] Bruce (_Expositor_, No. 50, p. 84). 'God's paternal discipline,\nour own self-effort, Christ's example, priestly influence and\nsympathy, all contribute to the same end, persistency and progress in\nthe Christian life.' It is specially instructive to contrast the\nChristian with the Pagan estimation of _Labour_, as a factor in the\nformation of character. See Martensen, _Ethics (Social)_, p. 129.\n\n[572] For what follows, see especially the Lenten sermons of S.\u00a0Leo.\nAlso a very useful book by Canon Furse, _Helps to Holiness_.\n\n[573] 1\u00a0Cor. vi.\u00a013. See Cyp. _de orat. Dom._ iv, on the part of the\n_body_ in prayer.\n\n[574] The particular shape which Almsgiving will assume is obviously\nto be 'suggested by the special conditions' of the age. See a noble\npassage in _Ecce Homo_ [ed. 13], p. 184, pointing out the way in which\nthe Christian spirit is likely to regard social problems. Cp.\nMartensen, _Ethics (Social)_, p. 132. This point seems completely\noverlooked in the _Service of Man_, c. vii.\n\n[575] Aug. _Enchir._ lxxii. 'Multa sunt genera eleemosynarum, quae cum\nfacimus _adjuvamur_.' See also Cyp. _de op. et eleem._ xxv. Leo, _in\nQuad._ v.\u00a04; _de Res._ i.\u00a01; _de Pent._ i.\u00a06, etc. Bruce, _Parabolic\nTeaching_, etc., pp. 371-375, has some striking remarks.\n\n[576] S.\u00a0Luke xi.\u00a041.\n\n[577] Leo, _in Quad._ xii.\u00a02, 'In caelestibus Ecclesiae disciplinis,\nmultum utilitatis adferunt _divinitus instituta_ jejunia.' Cp. Hooker,\nBk. v. \u00a7 72.\n\n[578] Ep. _ad Diogn._ vi. \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b8 \u03c3\u03b9\u03c4\u03af\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03cc\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f21 \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u1f74\n\u03b2\u03b5\u03bb\u03c4\u03b9\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n[579] Serm. _de Pass._ xix.\u00a05. Cp. Martensen, _Ethics (Indiv.)_, p.\n160; Martineau, _Types_, etc., vol. ii.\u00a0381.\n\n[580] S.\u00a0Matt. xxiv.\u00a08 \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u1f74 \u1f60\u03b4\u03af\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd.\n\n[581] Rom. viii.\u00a019.\n\n[582] 1\u00a0Cor. vii.\u00a031; 1 S.\u00a0John ii.\u00a017, etc.\n\n[583] Cp. _The Ethics of Socialism_, by E. Belfort Bax, p. 19.\n\n[584] Cp. Bern, _de consid._ v.\u00a011.\n\n[585] Ps. cxlix.\u00a01.\n\n[586] See the Bp. of Exeter's _Primary Charge_ on this subject. On the\nprinciple involved in this 'dual classification' see an impressive\npassage in Martineau, _Types_, etc., ii.\u00a065-69.\n\n[587] 2 Cor. v.\u00a05; Col. i.\u00a028; Butler, _Analogy_, i. c.\u00a05.\n\n[588] S.\u00a0Luke xx.\u00a036 \u1f30\u03c3\u03ac\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9 ... \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c5\u1f31\u03bf\u03af \u03b5\u1f30\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2\n\u03c5\u1f31\u03bf\u1f76 \u1f44\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2. Cp. Leo Magn. _Serm. in Res. Dom._ i. c.\u00a04.\n\n[589] Vinc. Lirin. _Common._ c. xiii. 'Unoquoque hominum sine fine\nvicturo, in unoquoque hominum sine fine necessario utriusque\nsubstantiae differentia permanebit.'\n\n[590] Dorner, _System, etc._, \u00a7 2.\n\n[591] Aug. _de Fid. et Symb._ xiii. 'Spirituale corpus intelligitur\nquod ita spiritui subditum est, ut caelesti habitationi conveniat.'\nThe Resurrection of the flesh is thus seen to have vital relation to\nthe idea of moral perfection. Cp. Thom. Aquin. _Summa_, i. ii\u1d43\u1d49. Qu. iv.\nArt. 6-8.\n\n[592] Iren. iv.\u00a028. 2, 'Hi semper percipiunt regnum, et proficiunt.'\nPet. Lomb. _Sent._ ii. xxv.\u00a07, 'Post confirmationem vero ... nec vinci\npoterit nec premi [homo]: et tunc habebit _non posse peccare_.'\n\n[593] S.\u00a0Matt. xiii.\u00a043; 2 Cor. iii.\u00a018; 1 S.\u00a0John iii.\u00a02.\n\n[594] 1 S.\u00a0John i.\u00a03-7; Heb. vii.\u00a016; Westcott, _Hist. Faith_, p. 147.\n\n[595] Aug. _de mor. Eccl._ iv. ['Beata vita,] cum id quod est hominis\noptimum, amatur et habetur.'\n\n[596] \u1f14\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u1fe6, S.\u00a0John vi.\u00a028. Cp. S.\u00a0Matt. vi.\u00a033.\n\n[597] 1\u00a0Cor. iii.\u00a022.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX I.\n\nON SOME ASPECTS OF CHRISTIAN DUTY.\n\n\nThe conception of morality as a system of positive Divine Law, and the\n'juridical method' which is said to mark early Christian writers on\nethics[598], is perhaps attributable to the growth of an imperial\nspirit in the Church when she found herself confronted with the task\nof reducing to order the social chaos into which the fall of the\nEmpire plunged Europe. S.\u00a0Leo may be said to embody this spirit in a\nmajestic personal form. The mark of Roman authority rests on the\nordinances of the Church of this period. It may be that her rules of\nduty wear something of the aspect of a fixed, unvarying code. The\nmoral problems with which she has to deal are comparatively simple;\nthey admit of clear, concise treatment, in accordance with a fixed\nsystem of discipline; sharp distinctions are possible: and the Gospel\nthus presents to the world the features of an external Law.\n\nBe this as it may, widely different conditions seem now to demand a\ndefinite system of Christian duty,--a study of 'special' or 'applied\nethics.' The main feature of modern life is not social disorganization,\nbut complexity of relationships; and although in the abstract no such\nthing is possible as a 'conflict of duties;' yet it is clear that duty\nis not always simple, or obvious. We need in fact something like a\nsystem of casuistry; of ethics applied to novel spheres, and special\npoints of obligation. It is indeed reasonable to expect that as\ncivilization advances, and new realms open up which the Christian\nspirit must appropriate, the Law of duty will be enriched; there will\nbe expansion of its content: e.g. the development of Industry makes\ndesirable the formulation of the 'Ethics of Labour;' the rise of a\nspecial class may raise the question whether 'class virtues' are to be\nrecognised, and how they are to be estimated, by Ethics[599].\n\nIn this appendix some purpose may be served by noticing a few pressing\nmoral problems of our time; some spheres of duty as to which guidance\nor development of principles seems called for.\n\ni. In the sphere of self-regarding duty a point which needs attention\nis the truth of _personal responsibility_. There are influences at\nwork which threaten the sense of accountability, whether for conduct\nor belief. There are of course speculative difficulties surrounding\nthe question of freedom; there is wide misconception of its true\nmeaning; but it needs to be clearly taught, that granted all\nlimitations of the power of choice, moral responsibility remains for\nthe use of the character, as of the property, which a man\ninherits[600]. A man's moral constitution, rigidly defined though it\nbe by heredity, is yet his 'heritage,' his natural endowment, for the\nright direction of which he is responsible. The weak sense of this\nplain fact is noticeable in the lax and indulgent tone often used\nrespecting criminals. 'To some of us,' it has been justly said, 'the\nindividual is always innocent and society always guilty[601].' The\ndegree of guilt, however, may be minimized (e.g. by the plea of\nignorance), while the fact of it remains.\n\nIn this connection statistics of crime have a value which needs to be\nestimated. Do they point to conditions of society which must be faced\nas unalterable? or do they not rather usefully indicate the proper\nchannels into which the stream of social energy should be directed?\n\nAgain, in the matter of personal _belief_, it is often assumed that\nthere is no responsibility. The question, however, for each\nindividual, if rightly stated, is simply this, 'What has been my\nattitude towards that which has presented itself to me as truth[602]?'\n\nAnother point of importance is the moral culture of _Imagination_, in\nrelation chiefly to aesthetic recreation in its different forms, the\nTheatre, the pursuit of Art, the reading of Fiction. We are learning\nby serious experience the enormous power of fancy to kindle passion,\nand to colour human actions. In view of the spread of depraving\nliterature, energetic assertion of duty towards this department of\npersonality is needed. Such duty seems to be recognised in Phil.\niv.\u00a08.\n\nii. Passing to the sphere of family obligations, it is natural to\nremark on the break-up of family life which is so common a consequence\nof highly-developed industry. The employment of women in factories,\netc., tends to make them unfit for domestic duties; while that of\nchildren encourages a spirit of independence which is not without\nsocial danger; thus not only the sense of parental duty, but the\nrespect for parental authority, is impaired. Christians are bound to\ndiscountenance, or at least to counteract, this state of things so far\nas it interferes with the rudiments of moral discipline.\n\nThe pressing need of our day, however, would appear to be some clear\nteaching on the subject of marriage. There are different aspects of\nthe marriage contract recognised in Scripture. But Christianity can\nmake no terms with those theories which have borne fruit in lax\nlegislation on divorce, with all its mischievous results. Marriage,\naccording to the Christian view, is a serious vocation, with its own\nsacred duties, and special consecration. Improvident marriage is as\nimmoral from a Christian as from an anti-Christian point of view[603].\nEthical considerations ought to guide or restrict the intention to\nmarry; and with regard to the question of population, Christianity\ncondemns any theory which offers a substitute for rational\nself-restraint. The true end of marriage, again, is something higher\nthan 'happiness'; it is appointed for the mutual enrichment of\npersonality, mutual freedom to fulfil the true ideal of human life.\nThe whole subject has indeed become involved in difficulties which\ncannot be encountered by any mere statement of principles. There is no\ndoubt, however, of the end which the Christian treatment of this point\nmust keep in view.\n\niii. As to the social sphere generally, we begin by remarking that,\nfrom the Christian standpoint, _every transaction_ between man and man\nis to be regarded as _personal_, and therefore _ethical_. The most\nsignificant fact perhaps of our time is the process of transition from\n(so-called) political to ethical economics. To reason rightly on\nsocial problems we must ever have regard to _personality_. For ethical\npurposes the abstract terms Capital, Labour, Production, Wealth, etc.,\nmust be replaced by _personal_ terms, Employer, Employ\u00e9, Producer, Man\nof Wealth, etc. Our problem is how to supersede the technical and\nlegal relation by the personal[604].\n\nThis being our fundamental point of view, we find that ethics will\ntreat equally of rights and duties. A Christian theory of _rights_ is\nrequired. The prevailing view of them is _individualistic_. It is\nforgotten that the rights of one man have their ground in the\nobligations of another; they are limited by the claims of other\npersonalities on our own; 'right' is, in fact, a condition making\npossible the fulfilment of duty. It is thus a matter of Christian\nconcern (to suggest mere examples) that workers should attain to the\npossibility of free self-development: healthy conditions of work, the\nenjoyment of domestic life, security of maintenance, perhaps\npermanence of contract, opportunities of recreation and\nculture,--everything, in fact, which will give them fair chance of\nhealthful and worthy human life. Christianity can be content with\nnothing short of this.\n\nOn the other hand _duties_ call for notice. Modern capitalists form a\nclass whose responsibilities it is difficult adequately to measure.\nThe general principle, however, is easily repeated: that it is the\nduty of the wealthy, or those who employ workers, to respect the\npersonality of their employ\u00e9s, to treat them not as machines, but as\nmen. Thomas Carlyle well describes the aim that should guide this\ninfluential class: 'to be a noble master among noble workers, the\nfirst ambition: to be a rich master, only the second.'\n\nIndustrial development indeed brings into prominence many questions of\nduty and right, which can be solved only by deeper apprehension of the\nChristian standpoint: and of 'morality as an industrial force[605]:'\nfor the ties which bind men in the relation of brotherhood and sonhood\nare the noblest and strongest.\n\nThe duties of a state are matters of controversy, and open a field not\nlightly to be entered. It is clear, however, that adequate pressure\ncan only be brought to bear on governing classes by an educated public\nopinion, rather we should say an enlightened moral sense, in the\ncommunity. It is impossible to foresee the results that might ensue\nfrom the growth of moral opinion on such points as the state\nregulation of vice, the just causes of war, the restriction of the\nhours of labour, the treatment of semi-civilized dependencies, the\ntrue lines to be followed by education. It is this tremendous potency\nof public opinion that points to the great need of modern democracy:\nthe education, namely, of feeling and character; the cultivation of\nreverence and the faculty of admiration, of self-control and sobriety\nin judgment and thought. How far a merely intellectual training will\nproduce this character can scarcely be a matter of controversy. A vast\nfield of inquiry and study is thus evidently open to economic\nmoralists: and it has been opportunely suggested that the effort to\nstudy, 'in the light of the revealed will of God, the intricate\nproblems of society,' might be a common bond between different\nsections of Christendom, and might promote that unity of God's Church,\nwhich is the true condition of effectual social reform[606].\n\niv. In the Church, or moral community which embraces and leavens the\nstate, special points of duty arise: e.g. respecting the limits of the\nChurch's self-adaptation to the tendencies of the age, and her\nrelation to the anti-Christian principle in society. Hence arise\ndifficult questions as to the true bases of Toleration, and of\nsubmission to the civil power. We may be sure that principles of\naction and thought can be reached only by closer study of Christ's\nwords in relation to modern life[607], as the practical instinct of\nthe Church has interpreted them. A similar problem is raised by the\nadvance of Science and Criticism. Christians are charged with being\nbehind scientific men in their apprehension of 'the morals of\nassent[608].' Whatever truth there is in such a reproach, it at least\nutters a note of warning.\n\nv. Once more, if we consider the non-personal realm with which man is\nbrought in contact, we must face the problem of duties towards the\nlower animals. We have seen that such duties have a ground in reason:\nbut their nature and extent are not well defined. It is important to\nstudy our Lord's attitude towards nature, for which He uniformly\nexhibits, especially in His parables and miracles, such feeling and\nlove. The practice of vivisection, for example, raises a question as\nto the limits of the _dominium naturae_ committed to man; and his\nright to employ creaturely life as a means. There is of course a\npractice of vivisection which is utterly immoral: as when it is\nprompted by mere pleasure in experimenting, or by idle curiosity; or\nis carried on without strict intention and reasonable prospect of\nmeeting a particular need.\n\nWithin the limits of an essay it would be presumptuous to do more than\nraise such questions as the foregoing; we perhaps best display a sense\nof their gravity by leaving them as suggestions for systematic\ndiscussion. For it has been justly observed with regard to ethical\nproblems that 'the actual solution is itself an art, a gift which\ncannot be taught.'\n\n[598] Sidgwick, _Outlines, etc._, p. 108.\n\n[599] These are perhaps implied in S.\u00a0Luke iii.\u00a010-14.\n\n[600] Cp. Mr. Cotter Morison, _Service of Man_, p. 214.\n\n[601] R. W. Dale, _Cont. Rev._, May, 1889. Consider S.\u00a0Luke xxiii.\u00a034.\n\n[602] See Dean Church, _Human Life and its Conditions_, Serm. III.\n_init._\n\n[603] See _Service of Man_, pref. xxv. foll.\n\n[604] See Ingram, _Pres. Condition and Prospects of Pol. Economy_, p.\n18: 'By habitually regarding labour from the abstract point of view,\nand overlooking the personality of the labourer, economists are led to\nleave out of account some of the considerations which most seriously\naffect the condition of the working man,' etc. Cp. Carlyle, _Past and\nPresent_, the last book.\n\n[605] See the chapter with this title in T. E. Brown, _Studies in\nModern Socialism and Labour Problems_, c. xii.\n\n[606] See an Article on 'Christian Union,' by Earl Nelson, _Cont.\nRev._, Feb. 1889.\n\n[607] See Martensen, _Ethics (Ind.)_, \u00a7 93. Dean Church, _Gifts of\nCivilization_, Serm. II.\n\n[608] Mr. Huxley in _Nineteenth Century_ for Nov.\u00a01887.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX II.\n\nON THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF SIN[609].\n\n\n  'Jesus did not commit Himself unto them, because He knew all men,\n  and needed not that any should testify of man: for He knew what was\n  in man.'--_S.\u00a0John_ ii.\u00a024, 25.\n\n  'Sin is lawlessness.'--1 _S.\u00a0John_ iii.\u00a04. [R.V.]\n\n'He knew what was in man.' The words describe our Lord in presence of\na fact universally recognized--man's moral unsatisfactoriness. He\nlooks steadily at man's first offer of service, at man's first\nenthusiasm, when 'many believed in His name,' and He discerns behind\nit a disqualifying cause; something which prevents Him from trusting\nman as he is, and from committing to him the great work of His\nkingdom. He sees sin in man and all that sin involves of moral\nfailure, of refusal to endure, of spiritual blindness, of lawless\nself-assertion, of passion, of selfishness, of self-will. That there\nis in human nature this disqualifying taint of sin is, we may say, a\nfact universally recognized. It is the fact which in slow embittering\nexperience has turned philanthropists into cynics and saddened the\nwisest. But to our Lord it was a fact present from the first. 'He\nneeded not that any should testify of man.' He reckoned with sin to\nstart with. Therefore He could not use mankind, as it offered itself,\nfor His purposes. It needed a fresh start, a vital re-creation, to fit\nit for such high ends. 'Except ye be converted and become as little\nchildren, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.' 'Except a\nman be born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.'\n\nChrist recognizes the fact of sin. All men more or less come to\nrecognize it within them and without. But yet there have been very\ndifferent ways of explaining it.\n\nFor upon the surface it is tempting to interpret the struggle between\ngood and evil, as we know it so sadly well in our narrow experience,\nas representing a universal conflict between opposite principles. The\nworld is a composite thing, men have supposed, the result of the\nantagonism of two Principles, two kingdoms, two Gods, one good and the\nother evil; or they have explained the world as representing the\naction of a good God upon an intractable material, eternal as Himself,\nwhich limits His power and restrains His hand. On either of these\ncognate theories[610] the soul of man is naturally represented as a\ncreation of the good Principle or a particle of it, embedded in a vile\nbody of material evil which clogs and hinders and impedes it, which is\nthe seat of lusts and passions, defiling the purity of the spiritual\nelement. The spirit is good and the body is evil. This is the theory\nupon which so much of Oriental asceticism has proceeded. The object of\nsuch asceticism is to liberate the pure spirit from the trammels of\nthe corrupting and imprisoning body. That is most spiritual which is\nleast material. Purification is abstraction from the body. The spirit\nis akin to God, and will one day win its way up to be re-absorbed in\nGod. The body is material and evil, the seat of sin, and to be dealt\nwith as such. Hence the remorseless persecution of the body which has\nbeen exhibited by the devotees of Gnosticism or Brahmanism--the\ndenunciation of marriage, of animal flesh and wine. Hence, on the\nother hand, the wild rebound into licentiousness which has sometimes\ncharacterized Gnostic or Manichaean sects. For, after all, when\nasceticism has done its utmost we are still in the body. If connection\nwith the body is sin, eating and drinking at all is as sinful as\nexcess; marriage the same as licence. Outward acts become\nindifferent--indifferently bad. This principle explains the reaction\nfrom extreme mortification to extreme licence which characterizes\nOrientalism.\n\nOnce more, in modern times, from a different point of view,\nmaterialism has again interpreted sin as an essential part of nature.\nIgnoring the distinction of what is moral and what is physical, the\nmaterialistic Positivism, for instance, of Mr. Cotter Morison\nrepresents goodness and badness in men as the simple product of\nnatural forces like goodness and badness in fruits of the earth, each\nclass of good and bad men being essentially and inevitably what it\nshows itself to be. 'Nothing is gained,' he says, 'by disguising the\nfact that there is no remedy for a bad heart and no substitute for a\ngood one[611].'\n\nIt is common to all the anti-Christian views of sin that at the last\nresort they make sin natural, a part of nature. It is characteristic\nof Christ's view of sin--of the Scriptural view of it--that it makes\nit unnatural. It is characteristic, again, of the non-Christian view\nthat it makes the body, the material, the seat of sin. It is essential\nto the Christian view to find its seat and only source in the\n_will_[612].\n\nTake the vilest crime, and Christianity assures you that throughout\nthe transaction, as you may observe it, there is nothing evil in the\nnatural material which is employed, there is only the lawless misuse\nof material which is in itself good. The worst passions are but the\ndisorderly exercise of feelings and faculties in themselves good and\ncapable of redemption. Lust is only love uncontrolled by the will,\nand, therefore, lawless. Take the lowest criminal, and Christianity\nassures you that, however habituated all his nature to run to evil, if\nyou can once get his will--what Scripture calls his 'heart'--set right\nand given to God, that right direction of the will, the heart, will\nafter long battle at last carry with it all the nature; the forces of\ngrace are set free to act when the obstacle of the will's rebellion or\napathy is removed, and (though it takes ages beyond this mortal life)\nat last the whole being will be purified, and what began in the\nsurrender of the will will take effect in the illumination of the\nintellect and the purifying of the affections. Thus it is that\nChristianity can represent God as justifying the sinner in virtue of\nfaith. Faith is the first movement of the will and heart by which the\nsinner, from the far-off country of his exile, seeks his true home,\nfrom the depth of his sin, claims Christ as his own. At this first\nmovement God welcomes him. He meets him with His acceptance. He claims\nhim as His true son, because in that first movement of the moral being\nGod sees the pledge of all that is to come. He sees the forces let\nloose which will bring the final victory. He deals with the sinner by\na Divine anticipation, not as he is, but as he is on the way to\nbecome[613]. 'His faith is reckoned for righteousness.'\n\nLet us dwell on the Christian view of sin, in its essence, in its\nappeal, in its practical justification, in its anthropological\nresults.\n\n(1) In its essence. It is expressed by S.\u00a0John, 'Sin is lawlessness:'\n\u1f21 \u1f01\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03af\u03b1 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u1f76\u03bd \u1f21 \u1f00\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03af\u03b1. The two terms are coincident. For God, and\nGod only, made the world, and there is no other Creator, no other\ncreation. He made it, and pronounced it very good in its completeness.\nThe universe, in all its sum of forces and existences, is good, and of\nGod. The very existence of anything is a pledge of its natural\ngoodness. It exists only because God created it and sustains it and\ndwells in it. It must cease to exist, S.\u00a0Augustine tells us, if it\nwere simply evil[614]. Positive existence is always, so far, good.\n\nWhat then is sin in men or in devils? In one word, _lawlessness_--the\nviolation of nature, the misuse of good by rebellion of the will.\nPhysical decay, death, dissolution, change, these are of nature; sin,\non the other hand, is contrary to nature. It is simply misuse,\ndisorder. It has no positive substance. A sinful man is not the man as\nGod made him with something else introduced called sin. He is simply\nthe man as God made him, disordered by ignoring God, by claiming\nindependence of God, by lawlessness. The same act may constitute\neither the sin of murder or the heroism of a soldier fighting in his\ncountry's defence; either the sin of adultery or Christian marriage,\nbecause in the one case the act is done in accordance with the\nGod-given law of our being; in the other case in defiance of it. The\nhumanity of Christ and the humanity of the greatest criminal are\nconsubstantial the one with the other. All that the criminal sins with\nbelongs to Christ's nature; He has all the faculties that are used for\nsin. 'He could sin if He could _will_ to sin,' the Fathers tell us,\n'but God forbid that we should think of His willing it[615].' What is\ndisordered, ungoverned in the criminal is in Christ perfectly\nsubordinated to a will, itself controlled in loving harmony by the\nDivine Spirit. If it sounds preposterous to say that the _nature_ of\nthe criminal is not of itself sinful, to make the statement reasonable\nand true we have only to bear in mind the results of sin which have\ntaken slow effect upon his nature in the sequence of generations of\nbad habit. The body may have become so accustomed to sin, so moulded\nto sin by forces within and without as to justify S.\u00a0Paul calling it a\n'body of sin[616],' but only in the sense in which our Lord calls\nmoney or mammon 'the mammon of unrighteousness[617].' Money, our Lord\nmeant, has become so accustomed, so to speak, to lend itself to the\npurposes of unrighteousness that it requires attention as alert,\nwisdom as far-sighted, as that of the unjust steward, in the children\nof light, to divert it again to its true uses. The body in the same\nway has been so moulded to sin, accustomed to sin, that it requires\nthe strong hand of an asceticism, rightly motived, to 'keep it under,'\nto lead it as a slave, to wrest it to good uses. It requires the\ncutting off of the right hand or the plucking out of the right\neye--the disuse for a time, that is, by doing violence to oneself of\nwhat has become so misused, so lawless. The bow must be bent violently\nback, if it is to be made straight. But the end of all this Christian\nasceticism is the restoration of our whole nature to its true law. We\nmortify our bodies only to offer them at last a living sacrifice of\nrational service. At last all the impulses and passions and parts of\neven the criminal nature shall be subjugated again to the law of the\nSpirit. Christ shall purify the impure and harmonise the disorderly.\nThus down the vista of an endless future Christianity forces us to see\nthe nature of the criminal, if he will but turn Godwards, only\nreconstituted, not substantially changed, one with Christ in glory.\nThis is the Christian doctrine of sin, the doctrine that Athanasius\nand Augustine and Anselm, the Christian Fathers as a whole, repeat and\nreiterate; that sin has no substance; that there is no positively\nsinful nature; that sin lies not in things, but in our relation to\nthings; that the introduction of sin is simply the privation of order;\nthat moral recovery waits for nothing but the conversion of will[618].\n\n(2) This is the Christian doctrine, and its appeal is to moral\nexperience. Looking at the world from the point of view of physical\nscience, it may appear as if goodness and badness were like good and\nbad fruit; but to suppose this is to leave out of sight the whole\nwitness of _moral_ experience. It was not Christian belief but\ninextinguishable consciousness that made Byron cry--\n\n  'Our life is a false nature--'tis not in\n  The harmony of things.'\n\nOr Shelley:--\n\n                        'The universe\n  In Nature's silent eloquence declares\n  That all fulfil the works of love and joy,\n  All but the outcast man[619].'\n\nIn proportion as the moral consciousness is keen and active, in that\nproportion men know that sin is not nature, but its violation; that\nthey are not what they are meant to be in sinning; that sin has no\nanalogy in the failures of nature, because it is what they are not,\navoidable and morally wrong; that it violates what they fulfil, the\nlaw of the world. Natural failure is part of the world's fruitfulness.\nThe seeds that fail supply material for the seeds that grow. Moral\nfailure--sin, that is, as distinguished from mere imperfection--is\nnever fruitful. Sins are always the 'unfruitful works of\ndarkness[620].'\n\n(3) And the justification of this Christian theory lies in its\n_success_. The moral triumphs of the Church depend upon it. Mr.\nHerbert Spencer constantly assures us that the fundamental postulates\nof human experience are assumptions or hypotheses at the bottom, which\nare continuously verified and justified by the correspondence of the\nresults reached. That is true of the Christian postulate of sin. The\nhypothesis that sin is not nature, but lack of will, is verified by\nthe victory which follows action upon it. 'According to thy faith be\nit done to thee'--that is Christ's challenge. Man after man sick of\nmoral paralysis lies at Christ's feet explaining why he cannot get up.\n'Take up thy bed and walk,' 'According to thy faith be it unto thee,'\nis the word of Christ. Claim for your own the morally best. Act on\nChrist's promise as if it were true and you find it is. This is\nfaith--to act on what transcends experience, to act on what you do not\nfeel possible, to act in faith on a promised strength, and to find it\nreally given only in the using. Faith involves the recognition of our\nown weakness, the surrender of our own independence into the hands of\nGod; it gains as its reward the promised help; it sets free the\n'virtue which goes out' of Christ. Reason can only analyse and\nrationalise what it already experiences. Faith can do what reason,\nwhat understanding, at any rate, cannot do--it can yield life up to\nhigher forces than it has yet known. Only when the forces have become\nin experience thoroughly familiar can they be subjected to the\nanalysis of reason. _Credo ut intelligam._ The justification of the\nChristian view of sin as something which is not nature, but failure or\ndisorder of will--something therefore which faith, that is the right\ndirection and use of will, can overcome, or put in the way to be\novercome--the justification of this view is, I say, to be found in\nexperience. Act against sin, in Christ's name, as if you had strength,\nand you will find you have. Expect and you receive. It finds its\njustification not in the recovery of our own lives only, but in that\nof others. The Christian lifts others by believing in them. He sees in\neach the subject of redemption. Behind heaps of sin, ingrained habits\nof sin, he sees a man's true self, true nature, as God made it and\nintended it to grow, and to this he appeals. 'According to thy faith\nbe it unto thee' means not only 'You can be saved, if you believe;' it\nmeans also 'You can save others'--save them by believing in them and\nin God, save them, not according to your own foolish desires, but in\naccordance with God's intention for them, with the original law of\ntheir being. The best modern novel literature is full of this truth.\nWhat are the moral recoveries of Jean Valjean in _Les Miserables_, and\nof Sidney Carton in the _Tale of Two Cities_, and of the selfish old\npeer in the child story of the _Little Lord Fauntleroy_, but so many\ninstances of the redemptive power of Christian love because it\n'believeth all things, hopeth all things,' believes past belief, hopes\nbeyond hope. The justification of the Christian view of sin lies,\nthen, in its success; partly in the results it actually produces,\npartly in the larger promise which it opens out beyond the horizon of\nwhat we see. 'There is no remedy for a bad character and no substitute\nfor a good one'--that is the only outcome of the physical view of sin.\n'According to thy faith, be it unto thee'--that is the Christian\nanswer; there is for thyself no limit to what thou mayest become, on\nthe lines, that is to say, not of thine own ambition, but of God's\npurpose, except what thou settest by thine own want of faith, thine\nown failure of moral appetite; there is in the case of others no limit\nto what thou mayest help them to become, on the lines, once again, of\ntheir fundamental nature--except the limits of their faith and thine.\n\n(4) This Christian view of sin determines in part its whole\nanthropology. What sin is in us, and now, and in recorded history, sin\nis also in the whole of humanity. Sin actual is of a piece with sin\nhistorical, with sin original. Each man does not start afresh. He\ninherits the moral conditions from which his life starts. I am aware\nthat a modern school of biologists, headed by Professor Weissmann, is\nmodifying the current doctrine of heredity so far as to deny that\nacquired character can be transmitted, so far as to deny that the acts\nor habits of men can physically modify the organisation of their\ndescendants. It is not yet clear that this view, in its extreme form,\nis at all likely to gain acceptance. But I suppose Christianity can\nawait the result with patience. It may not be in any region to which\nscientific analysis or investigation can penetrate, but at least in\nthe inner region of man's personality Christianity must maintain that\nthe individual does not start afresh. He starts the subject of sinful\ntendencies which he did not originate, but which those who went before\nhim did, if not originate, at least let loose from restraint, and so\nmake sinful. Sin is in the race as well as in the individual; stayed\nmore or less by moral effort and resistance here; let loose by\nself-indulgence or luxury there: in varying force and alterable sway\ntherefore, but everywhere more or less present, everywhere making a\nman conscious not merely of imperfection, but of inward taint,\neverywhere needing re-creation, recovery, redemption. And everywhere\nsin is of a piece. My sins are only fresh specimens of what has been\ngoing on all along. They work just the same result upon humanity as a\nwhole as the sins of my predecessors, as the first sin: I am driven\nlogically as well as theologically to extend my theory of sin and to\ngeneralise it beyond present experience. Sin, not in the individual,\nas I know him merely, but in the whole of humanity from the first, has\nbeen always rebellion, not nature. At the beginning of human life,\nproperly so called, when first a being truly called a man woke up to\nconsciousness of his relation to God, to nature, to himself, he did\nnot find sin part of his being; he might have obeyed the movement of\nthe Spirit of God and realised his true sonship by keeping his animal\nnature under the control of the spirit: so he would have fulfilled the\nlaw of his destined manhood. Sin at the origin of our human life, as\nthrough all its history, was treason to our higher capacity, which\nmade man the slave of the flesh. The 'slave of the flesh,' because he\nwas not meant to be an animal: he was meant to be a spiritual being.\nAnd it was the capacity for the higher life which turned to sin his\nchoice of a lower; which tinged it with the colour of 'remorse,' with\nthe bitterness of 'self-contempt[621].'\n\nAs the essential Christian doctrine of sin finds the guarantee of its\npermanence in the moral consciousness, so it would not appear to\ninvolve any conflict with the disclosures of science. Yet it has been\nsufficiently distorted in statement for a conflict to have arisen. And\nthe points at issue are briefly three.\n\n(_a_) Broadly, it is said, the Christian religion represents man as\nstarting in a state of perfection and gradually degrading. Science,\nwith all the evidences on its side, represents man as starting in a\nstate of savagery and gradually rising.\n\nThis is a most delusive antithesis. It is certainly true that progress\nhas not been uniform. There is such a thing as moral deterioration. A\nhistory of the progress of sin from will to intellect, from intellect\nto heart, till it penetrates the whole nature and plunges it into the\nlowest depths of denaturalisation represents what has been a fact both\nin the individual and in society. Such a record of one element in\nhuman experience S.\u00a0Paul gives us in Romans i[622]. Its truth cannot\nbe denied. But so far is this from representing the Christian view of\nhuman history as a whole that, on the contrary, the Scriptures stand\nalone among ancient literatures in presenting the idea of gradual\nprogress, gradual education, movement onwards to a climax. The Bible\nis the book of development. 'God Who in many parts and many manners\nspoke of old time ... hath in the end of these days spoken by His\nSon;' and still we move on in the realisation and appropriation of all\nthat is revealed and given in Christ 'till we all come ... unto the\nperfect man.' Nor is it the least true to say that this development is\n_only_ the attempt to regain the platform on which man was first\nplaced. The idea of the first man as a being of developed intellectual\nand spiritual capacity, perfect in all the range of his faculties--the\nidea which would admit of our saying with Robert South that 'an\nAristotle was but the rubbish of an Adam, and Athens but the rudiments\nof Paradise'--may be, indeed has been, found in theologians, it may\nhave passed into the imagination of the English nation as part of the\ndebt, theologically very largely a debt of evil, which we owe to the\ngreat poem of Milton; but it is not Scriptural, it is not Christian\ntheology at its best[623]. All the fabric of civilisation the Bible\nrepresents as being gradually built up, whether by Jabal, 'who was the\nfather of such as dwell in tents and have cattle,' or by Jubal, 'who\nwas the father of all such as handle the harp and organ,' or by Tubal\nCain, 'who was the instructor of every artificer of brass and iron.'\nThere is no impression given us that any of the arts or the knowledge\nof civilisation existed before. All that we are led to believe is that\nthe historical development of man has not been the development simply\nas God meant it. It has been tainted through its whole fabric by an\nelement of moral disorder, of human wilfulness. We cannot draw a\npicture of how human nature was intended to fight the battle of\nprogress. We cannot relate the state of the savage to the intention of\nGod, any more than we can relate the present state of our great cities\nto that intention[624]. All we can say is that the state of things as\nthey were in days of savagery, or as they are in days of civilisation,\nrepresents a _parody_ of the Divine intention for the childhood and\nmanhood of the race. Man was made to grow by gradual effort in range\nand exercise of every faculty of his being. But all this gradual\ngrowth might have been conditioned by a conscious fellowship with God,\nwhich would have introduced into it an element of nobility and\nstability which in fact it has lacked. For the historical development\nof man has been a development with God only too often left out, the\ndevelopment under conditions of merely physical laws of a being meant\nto be spiritual[625].\n\n(_b_) 'But no,' the biologist rejoins; 'you will not get off thus\neasily. Christianity regards even so absolutely natural a fact as\ndeath, a fact so inextricably interwoven into the structural growth of\nthe world, as a mere consequence of sin. Christianity is refuted by\nevery evidence of death being a law of physical nature.' So far from\nthis being true, it is the case that the early Christian writers,\nS.\u00a0Augustine as well as S.\u00a0Athanasius, emphasise the truth that death\nis the law of physical nature; that when man died he was undergoing\nwhat belonged to his animal nature. 'Paul,' says Augustine, 'describes\nman's body as dead, not as mortal, because of sin. Mortal it was by\nnature, because, as being animal, it was subject to death[626].' In\nbeing left to death, Athanasius teaches, man was only left to the law\nof his physical being[627]. What, in fact, the Christian teachers hold\nis not that death, but death as it has been known among men, is the\npenalty of sin, because man's spiritual or supernatural life would\nhave blunted the forces of corruption and lifted him into a higher\nimmortal state. Man would not have died because he would have been\nspiritual rather than animal. And even here, if we are asked what this\nmeans, we must hesitate in our answer. If sin is said to have brought\nhuman death, Christ is said to have abolished it. 'This is the bread\nwhich cometh down from heaven that a man may eat thereof and not die.'\n'If any man eat of this bread he shall live for ever.' 'Whosoever\nliveth and believeth on Me shall never die.' 'Christ Jesus ...\nabolished death.' Sin, we may suppose, only introduced death in the\nsense in which Christ abolished it[628]. Christ has not abolished the\nphysical transition, but it ceases to be what death implies:--\n\n        'Henceforth is death\n  But the gate of life immortal.'\n\nDeath as it has borne upon sinful man has been the sad ending of\nhopes, the rending of his heart-strings, the collapse of his plans,\nthe overshadowing fear, the horrible gulf, the black destruction. In\nall that makes it death, it has been the result of sin, of the\nmisdirection of his aims and hopes. Had man not sinned there might,\nindeed, have been a passage from one state to another, a physical\ndissolution, a moral victory--but it would not have been what men have\nknown as 'death.'\n\nIf this be the right way of regarding the matter, as it is certainly\npermissible, we shall be able to echo in all its breadth Athanasius's\nteaching, that sin did not directly alter _things_, but only our\nattitude towards them[629].\n\n(_c_) But, once again, and for the last time, the opponent objects:\n'All this theory of original sin is built simply on the supposition\nthat the early chapters of Genesis represent literal history. It falls\nto the ground if they are myth and not history.' Once again, this is\nnot at all the case. The Christian doctrine of sin finds its chief\nauthorisation in Christ's attitude towards it. Sin (if Christ's\nwitness is true) is not nature; it does not represent God's intention,\nbut something that has baffled for a time God's intention, something\nthat Christ is come to conquer. Moreover, this doctrine of sin is not\na mere dogma enunciated on external authority; it finds its\nverification in experience. The moral experience of Christendom\nconfirms it, and this experience of eighteen centuries reflects itself\ninevitably on the whole of human life. What interprets sin within this\narea interprets it through the whole history. With this authority of\nChrist, verified in the Christian experience, as his firm foundation,\nthe Christian does not hesitate to see in the early chapters of\nGenesis the action of the inspiring Spirit. It was only the inspiring\nSpirit Which could assure man that the whole universe was of God's\nmaking and very good, that the state in which he found himself\nrepresented not his nature, as God meant it to be, but the result of\nhis rebellion, the result, moreover, which God meant to counter-work,\nnay, which in gradual process He was counter-working. In all the\naccount then of the creation, of the nature of man, of the origin of\nsin, the Christian sees an action of the inspiring Spirit. He sees it\nall the more when he compares the record of Genesis with those which\nare parallel to it in other races. But if an Irenaeus, a Clement, an\nAthanasius, an Anselm could treat the record or part of it as rather\nallegorical than historical, we can use the same liberty. This is not\nour present subject. All I want to make clear is that the Christian\ndoctrine of sin rests on a far broader and far surer foundation than\nthe belief that the early chapters of Genesis belong to one form or\nstage of inspired literature rather than to another. It rests on the\nstrong foundation of the authority of our Lord, accepted and verified\nby man's moral consciousness.\n\n[609] A sermon preached before the University of Cambridge, at Great\nSt. Mary's Church, on Sunday, March 17, 1889, by the Rev. Charles\nGore, and printed in the _Guardian_, March 27. A paragraph of\npractical exhortation is omitted at the end. Some apology is no doubt\nneeded for the introduction of a Sermon into a volume of Essays. But\nit was felt (1) that there was under the circumstances an advantage in\nproducing what was not written in view of the criticisms on _Lux\nMundi_; (2) that the sermon was not specially homiletic.\n\n[610] The first is that of the Manichaeans and some Gnostics. The\nsecond that of the Platonists and other Gnostics. But both the\ntheories represent tendencies very commonly at work both among\nOrientals and in Europe. Recently John Stuart Mill was disposed to\nembrace the latter theory: see _Three Essays on Religion_, 3rd\nedition, London, 1874, pp. 58, 243.\n\n[611] _The Service of Man_, London, 1887, p. 295. Cf. p. 293, 'It will\nperhaps be said that this view does away with moral responsibility....\nTo which the answer is, that the sooner the idea of moral\nresponsibility is got rid of, the better it will be for society and\nmoral education.'\n\n[612] See, for instance, Tertullian, _de paenit._ 3; Anselm, _Cur Deus\nHomo_, i. 11.\n\n[613] Augustine, _de Trin._ i.\u00a010. 21.\n\n[614] Aug. _de mor. Man._ ii.\u00a03, 'Ut ab essentia deficiant et ad non\nesse tendant? quod malum generale esse clamat verissima ratio.' _Op.\nimp. c. Jul._ i.\u00a0114, 'Non enim potest esse ullum malum nisi in aliquo\nbono; quia non potest esse nisi in aliqua natura; omnis autem natura,\nin quantum natura est, bonum est.'\n\n[615] For references, see p. 290, note.\n\n[616] Rom. v.\u00a06: see Godet's _Commentary_ in loc. Clark's _Foreign\nTheol. Libr._ i. p. 416; and cf. Col. ii.\u00a011, \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c3\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2.\n\n[617] S.\u00a0Luke xvi.\u00a09.\n\n[618] See Origen, _C. Cels._ iv.\u00a065-66; Athan. _C. Gentes_, 6-7; and\ncf. the index to S.\u00a0Augustine _s. v._ malum. So far, however, as each\nindividual identifies himself with sin, it becomes 'his nature': a\nfalse nature, obscuring the true, but never annihilating it; cf.\nTertullian, _de An._ 41, 'Naturae corruptio alia natura est,' etc.;\nand Bernard, _in Cant. Serm._ 82. 2,--admirable passages.\n\n[619] See in Mozley, _Lectures_, etc., x. p. 159.\n\n[620] Cf. in explanation of this, the Preface, p. xviii.\n\n[621] There is a fundamental mistake in the popular excuse for sensual\nsin--that it is 'natural.' The mistake lies in the idea that man's\nanimal and spiritual natures are separable, that he can live as pure\nanimal in one part of his life, and pure spirit in another. But as a\nfact man's life is only lived 'according to nature,' where every part\nof it is lived 'in flesh and in spirit': the spiritual motive must\ncontrol the bodily organ. Only so are his acts really human. If he\ntries to act as a mere animal he becomes sinful. The evidence of this\nlies in the fact that while the physical nature of animals contains\nwithin itself the check on sensual indulgence, the check in man's case\nlies in his spiritual faculties. You can have a 'dissipated' man, i.e.\na man whose bodily impulses are uncontrolled by will or spirit; you\ncannot have a 'dissipated' animal.\n\n[622] It is not intended as a _complete_ account, cf. Rom. ii.\u00a014-15.\n\n[623] In answer to the question whether Adam was formed perfect or\nimperfect \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f24 \u1f00\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03ae\u03c2, Clement replies: 'They shall learn from us\nthat he was not perfect [i.e. complete in development, \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2] in\nrespect of his creation, but in a fit condition to receive virtue.'\nClem. Alex. _Strom._ vi.\u00a012. 96. Cp. Iren. _c. haer._ iv.\u00a038.\n\n[624] But we can recognize that before civilisation had developed the\nchecks which society supplies against abrupt deterioration, collapse\ninto savagery would have been much more rapid than it can be in a more\ndeveloped state.\n\n[625] Cf. Aubrey Moore's _Evolution and Christianity_ (Oxford House\nPapers), pp. 32-3. 'The change which took place at the Fall was a\nchange in the moral region; but it could not be without its effect\nelsewhere. Even the knowledge of nature becomes confused, without the\ngoverning truth of the relation of man to God. The evolution which\nshould have been the harmonious development of the whole man, is\nchecked and impeded in one part, and that the highest part of his\nnature. And therefore, in spite of all the physical and intellectual\nadvance which man has made, he is always and everywhere the worse for\nthe Fall. However great his development has been, it is still a\nretarded development, a development slower than it need have been,\nless regular and less sure than God meant it to be.'\n\n[626] Aug. _De gen. ad litt._ vi.\u00a036, 'Mortalis erat conditione\ncorporis animalis.'\n\n[627] Athan. _de Incarn._ 4.\n\n[628] Cf. Westcott's _Ep. to the Hebrews_, p. 54 (on Hebr. ii.\u00a016).\n\n[629] Athan. _C. Gentes_ 7; cf. Aug. on Gen. iii.\u00a018 (_De Gen. ad\nlitt._ iii.\u00a018, 28), where it is said that it is difficult to suppose\nthat 'thorns and thistles' were first produced on the occasion of sin:\nbut we may understand that they then first began to be obstacles to\nman in the cultivation of the ground: 'spinas et tribulos pariet\n_tibi_.'","title":"Lux Mundi: A Series of Studies in the Religion of the Incarnation,: 10th Edition, 1890","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":213961}